THROUGH THE WOODS
by Patcat
Summary: A sequel of sorts to OVER THE RIVER. It's Christmas in April, and set around the fifth season after IN THE WEE SMALL HOURS. Bobby, Alex, road trip, danger.
1. Chapter 1

THROUGH THE WOODS

Chapter 1

"Holidays," Detective Alex Eames mused, "do funny things to people." She considered several examples of that statement before her. Assistant District Attorney Ron Carver, normally dignified to the state of stuffiness, had been singing the baritone and bass parts of several Christmas songs since Thanksgiving—he revealed to Alex that he belonged to his church choir and they were in intense preparations for their Christmas services. Captain James Deakins was quietly but anxiously consulting with the women of One Police Plaza regarding potential presents for his wife and daughters—Alex shared a quick conversation with Carolyn Barek after Deakins cornered each of them.

"So," Alex asked, "what advice did you give him?"

"Told him not to follow my example in footwear."

Alex snorted her coffee, and Barek smiled. "Hey," Barek said. "I know what people say…but when it comes to shoes I favor comfort…and keeping up with my partner…I don't know how you keep up with Goren when you're wearing heels."

Alex returned the smile. "Yea, but if I'm not wearing heels, Goren and I are in different zip codes."

Alex watched as Barek and Logan, each looking quietly satisfied, returned to their desks. She liked both detectives, a feeling reinforced by their shared troubles during the Garrett case. Barek was quiet and weird, but smart and possessed of a sharp sense of humor. And five years with Robert Goren meant that Alex Eames could deal with weird. After some initial suspicion—based, Alex had to confess, on hearsay—she liked Mike Logan. She discovered that the reports of his temper were exaggerated; that he possessed extraordinary street smarts; and he was intensely loyal. Logan was quietly furious when he learned of the invasion of Goren's life during the Garret case. "I caused my own problems," he told Alex over a cup of coffee. "But this…this isn't Goren's fault. This is a low blow." The only bright spots in the investigation came from the times Alex and Barek spent observing and commenting on Goren and Logan's behavior. After the two detectives returned from one expedition, Goren cast a wary eye at the two women.

"What?" he asked with some trepidation.

"They're on to us, Goren," Logan said. "No more side trips."

"I know my partner," Alex said. "If he's making any side trips, they're to the library."

"I like libraries," Barek chimed in. "You boys have to promise to take me next time."

And Alex was surprised by how happy she was that for once Bobby Goren joined in the laughter and wasn't its target.

Alex signed another form and banished it to her done pile. The Garrett case had formed a loose alliance among her, Bobby, Logan and Garrett, one that appeared to be growing stronger in the midst of the holiday chaos. Barek, it developed, was a fair baker and had presented several items to the office. Like many tough shelled officers, Logan possessed a soft, chewy center, and had volunteered to take several shifts and help the Major Case Squad's charity efforts. And Bobby was engaging in his usual unusual holiday behavior. He appeared outwardly unfazed and unaware of the storms around him, but Alex knew that Deakins had already tapped him to play Santa for at least one function. The office's decorators knew they could depend on taking advantage of his height and reach; its solicitors for charity knew he was their best mark. He had quietly and cheerfully signed up to cover Christmas Eve, Christmas, New Year's Eve, New Year's Day, and any other time needing help.

Alex gnawed on her pen. She had hoped their—exactly what would she call their encounter on Thanksgiving Day? Dare she call it a date? "Well," Alex thought, "whatever it was, it helped. We've been clicking on all cylinders since then…but I hoped it might help him…relax…realize he doesn't have to work all the time…That I'm here for him…"

"Hey…compliments of the season." Bobby placed a red and white cardboard cup on Alex's desk.

Alex brightened at the smell of peppermint and chocolate. "H-m-m…peppermint mochas…one of the joys of the season."

"Yea," Bobby said. "But the gingerbread lattes have to rank with eggnog as one of the evils."

"Ah, but if you put enough rum in the eggnog," Alex responded.

"Doesn't help…nothing helps eggnog…not even massive infusions of alcohol." Bobby shook his head.

"Look out," Alex said. "Deakins and Carver at 12 o'clock."

"I hope," Deakins said. "That this intense conversation involves police business."

Bobby appeared to search for a subtle way to dive under his desk. Alex gave her captain her best innocent waif look.

"Bobby and I were debating the relative merits of eggnog with or without rum."

"Eggnog," Carver declared in his best court voice, "has no merits even with alcohol."

"Good grief, Bobby," Alex said in mock shock, "Another thing you have in common with Carver."

"Let's hope this isn't a trend," Carver commented.

Bobby abandoned plans to dive under his desk.

"All right," Deakins said, "This is fascinating, but we do have to work…Either of you remember the Axelrod case? Disappearance of a female stockbroker?"

Alex drew a blank, but Bobby quickly made the connection.

"Yea…she was young…pretty…and had several stocks and certificates with her when she disappeared during a conference somewhere in the Adirondacks…There was a lot of publicity, but the stockbroker and the paper were never found…" Bobby turned towards Alex. "But that was at least a year before either of us was near Major Case."

"I know," Deakins said quietly. "But some new evidence has appeared…including some of the paper…and the stockbroker's father has friends…and her family deserves to know what happened to her if we can find out."

"I've contacted the local authorities and have the paperwork ready," Carver said.

Bobby and Alex exchanged a dark look.

"I know," Deakins said. "It's not a great thing at any time…old case…politics…possibly hostile local authorities…with leads that may lead nowhere…but if anyone can crack this…it's you two…"

"Well," Alex said, "Maybe we can ski…"

"I don't ski, Eames," Bobby said. "Won't catch me hurtling my body down a mountain at fifty miles an hour."

End Chapter 1


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Alex peered out the car's windshield; she usually enjoyed driving, but realized she preferred dealing with the brutalities of New York City's traffic to the dubious wonders of country roads. "At least in the city," she thought, "you can usually find the pavement." She glanced at Bobby, who had been lost in a study of the case files throughout the trip from the city. A frown appeared on his face during their flight, and it deepened during the long drive from the small airport.

"What's wrong?" Alex asked finally breaking the silence.

"The files…the evidence…where and how the certificate reappeared…they suggest…that possibly…that the local law…at the very least…they didn't do a very good job with the initial investigation…"

"Great," Alex sighed. "I can't imagine the locals will be glad to see us under any circumstances…but if someone didn't do their job…but you…you think it's worse than that, don't you?"

"Yea," Bobby answered cautiously. He knew that Alex despised bad cops and the buddy boy system that frequently protected them. But she was the daughter of a cop, the sister of a cop, the niece of a cop, and the granddaughter of a cop, and her ties to the blue tribe ran deep and wide. The only thing that rivaled her hatred of bad cops was a case that required her to shine a spotlight on suspect cops.

"There's some things in the evidence…but I can be wrong, Eames."

Bobby saw the tension in Alex's jaw.

"We both know, Goren, that you're usually not wrong," she said. She stared at the snow. "I wish we could have flown somewhere closer…or at least gotten a bigger car…"

"There isn't anywhere closer," Bobby said. "And I think we were lucky to get a car…but I grant you that I wish we had something bigger."

Alex snuck a look at Bobby and tried not to laugh at his scrunched up form. "It's a good thing I'm driving," she said. "I don't think there's room for your knees here."

Bobby shot her a rueful look. "How bad are the roads? It's been coming down pretty hard."

"Not too bad…but I'd rather be on Fifth Avenue at rush hour."

"Prefer the known danger to the unknown."

"Original thought, Bobby?"

He gave her a quick grin. "Nah…adopted and adapted…can't remember what or who from at the moment. Truth is, Eames, I'm not a great original thinker."

"You're dazzling enough for me." Alex returned the grin.

They returned to a companionable silence, with Bobby studying files and Alex concentrating on the snow covered road. Lake Winnett was so far off the beaten track that the idea of winter tourism had yet to take hold. Unlike other resort towns in its area, Lake Winnett failed to provide for skiing or snowmobiling, and ice fishing was still a source of sustenance for locals and not a sport for outsiders. The town effectively shut down in winter, and there was some difficulty in finding Alex and Bobby accommodations. The New York State Police had been cooperative—Alex sensed it might be glad to be rid of the case—but there had been little response from the local sheriff department beyond an acknowledgment that it knew Alex and Bobby were coming.

Alex was not looking forward to dealing with a suspicious or worse local police force for the next few days. She was however, she realized with some surprise, looking forward to spending time away from the confines of One Police Plaza with Robert Goren. As she carefully maneuvered the car on the two lane road, Alex considered this fondness for spending time with her partner. "It's not like I don't already spend most of my waking hours with him," she thought. Her preference for Bobby's company was not new: it started soon after Alex realized the partnership might work, and intensified on her return from her nephew's birth. Her enforced absence from Bobby during her surrogate pregnancy highlighted how much she liked being in his presence. She had gone on sporadic dates—although none since her pregnancy—and the thought struck Alex that she spent at least part of these comparing, usually unfavorably, her companion with Bobby. As much as she loved her family, Alex had discovered she preferred to be with Bobby; she didn't have to play the role of aunt, or niece, or sister, or daughter with Bobby. She could just be Alex, and she liked the Alex she was when she was with Bobby.

Unaware of his partner's thoughts, which would have disturbed him far more than would have been safe within the car's small space, Bobby cast a quick look at Alex. He admired her adept handling of the car. Alex's willingness to drive the last miles of their journey allowed him to complete his study of the files covering the disappearance of Lydia Axelrod. The flimsy evidence contained in those files and the reason for their trip was troubling, but Bobby welcomed the opportunity to spend time with Alex. He stared out at the postcard winter scenery moving past the window and pondered his relationship with Alex Eames. She had become the perfect partner for him—tough, intelligent, tolerant, funny, willing to go with his craziest ideas, but also able to rein him in when necessary. And she stayed. In spite of everything, she stayed.

The professional relationship was rare and pure gold, but Bobby valued the personal relationship more than he could count. He had, as he told Alex during their Thanksgiving…what was that? A date? Whatever it was, it inspired Bobby to reveal some of what Alex meant to him. He did have many associates, but not many friends. And those friends now tended to be far away or in his past; Alex was his best, his truest friend. Bobby knew that Alex was unaware of her importance in his life, and that he held a far smaller role in her life. Alex had friends, brothers, sisters, a mother, father, nieces, nephews (especially one nephew), and a life. "She should have all of this," Bobby thought. "And more. Men, at least men with any brains, should be buying her diamond necklaces."

Bobby tried to stifle a sigh. He had reluctantly come to accept his emotional and intellectual need for Alex; he'd become aware of it soon after he knew their professional partnership would last beyond a few months. Since her return from her leave, however, he'd become aware of a growing physical want for Alex. Desperate to maintain their partnership and friendship, Bobby struggled against his want.

He chanced a look at Alex. "I can't let her know," Bobby thought. "It may hurt…but it's worth it…just to be with her…and I do work better with her around…somehow, she helps me focus…she's never a distraction…"

"Hey," Alex said. "I think we've actually found it." She peered down the road at what appeared to be downtown Lake Winnitt. "What should we do…check in at the hotel or head to the sheriff's department?"

"Hotel, then sheriff," Bobby answered. "Let's get the lay of the land."

In spite of the snow, they easily found the hotel, although considering Lake Winnitt's major street consisted of only one block, the effort failed to tax either Alex or Bobby's skills as a detective. Finding a clerk to check them in took somewhat more work.

"I'm sorry," the clerk fumbled as he struggled to find their reservations. Everything about him reminded Alex of a weed, from his thin graying hair to his high weak voice. She tried not to immediately dislike him. "The sheriff told me he'd call when you arrived."

Bobby and Alex exchanged a quick and unhappy look.

Alex took the lead. "We decided to check in first…it's been a long trip."

The clerk jostled the keys. "Here you are," he finally said. "Mr. Goren, you're in the room across the way." The clerk indicated a room within sight of the front desk. "And Miss Eames, you're around the corner…"

Bobby and Alex exchanged another, darker look.

"We'd prefer rooms next to each other," Alex said quietly, and she ignored the offered key.

The clerk stared at Alex, then Bobby.

"I…I'm sure, sir," he began.

Bobby performed his trick of adding several inches and pounds to his already intimidating size. "I'm sure you heard Detective Eames," he said in a voice made more threatening by its lack of volume. "We'd like rooms next to each other…preferably moving me next to Detective Eames…"

"And we know you're not full up," Alex added. She noticed, with no small amount of satisfaction, that the weed was blowing in the wind.

"Of...course..." the clerk stuttered.

A few moments later Alex was surveying her room. The clerk had made a feeble attempt to show them to their rooms, but Bobby's quiet but intimidating air easily  
cowered him. Alex sighed as she examined her room; a large snow covered bush obscured a heating unit which in turn obscured the sliding glass door to the patio. It was not the room Alex, with her cop's sense of security, would have chosen. There was a knock at the door. Alex checked through the peephole and was reassured to find Bobby's sturdy frame standing before the door.

"Interesting welcome we got," Alex said as she let Bobby in. "I called Deakins to update him...he said to be careful..."

Bobby examined Alex's room and frowned as he saw the patio. He rubbed his neck and turned to Alex. "I don't like this," he said.

"Yea...but I wonder how bright the people who are doing this are," Alex said. "Pretty obvious attempt to divide us."

Bobby's vision swept to the hotel parking lot just visible from Alex's window. "Well, it looks like we might be about to find out about who engineered  
it...there's a sheriff's car pulling up."

End Chapter TWO


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

By the time there was a knock on Alex's door, she and Bobby had formed their plans, and Bobby was out of the hotel and on his way to the local library. "Fine," Alex told him as he slipped out her balcony, "leave me to deal with the local law."

Bobby paused. "Truth is…" He hesitated; Bobby knew that Alex hated it when he was overprotective. "I'm not entirely…comfortable…with splitting up…"

Alex gave him her standard don't-you-mess-with-me-because-in-a-pinch-I-could-whip-your-butt-look. "Don't worry…I'll give him either the poor who-me-officer or the sexy big city lady routine…I'll be fine…and we know when to check in with each other."

Bobby stopped at the edge of the hotel's parking lot to briefly survey the surroundings. Although it had just turned noon, the light was dim, and snow still fell from the steel grey sky. It was biting cold, and Bobby felt that he and Alex were very much alone in this corner of the world. The country patrol car rested next to the rental car, and Bobby had little doubt the officer had given their vehicle a once over before entering the hotel.

The Lake Winnitt library shared its quarters with the local historical society and its parking lot with the county's community building. Bobby noted that there wasn't a need for the officer to drive to the hotel, as nothing in the town was more than a few doors from anything else. A quietly friendly woman with graying hair and warm brown eyes who served both the historical society and the library greeted Bobby and directed him to the newspaper archives. Bobby felt a quick, sharp pang as a wisp of a memory of his mother before her illness took hold swept through his mind.

The yellowing, crackling local newspapers offered some information. Lydia Axelrod was, for a few weeks, a major story in the Lake Winnitt HERALD; a photo of a pretty smiling young blonde woman dotted several issues. The HERALD trumpeted the official line—that Lydia Axelrod checked into a local resort for a conference; that she failed to report one morning for a session; in spite of a search by the state police and inquiries by the state police and the NYPD and the FBI, no trace of her was found. Pictures of Sheriff Lee Moskan, usually connected with quotes from him suggesting Miss Axelrod might have left with a boyfriend, replaced those of Lydia in subsequent issues. In several of these photos Bobby noticed a young deputy bearing the same stocky build and soft features as the sheriff and that the young man was occasionally identified as Larry Moskan.

The Axelrod case eventually disappeared from a regular space in the local press, although a story did usually appear on or near its anniversary. Bobby noted the papers also covered Larry Moskan's rapid advancement through the local law enforcement ranks. Another Moskan, Edward, appeared; he was a younger, leaner version of his father and brother. And Bobby noted four other stories, all dealing with the unexplained disappearances of young women from towns within a day's drive of Lake Winnett. These weren't close enough to merit much attention from the HERALD, but all involved young professional women who …Bobby's throat tightened…small blondes.

The librarian offered Bobby bits of information as he moved among the library shelves, information that proved of equal or greater value than what he learned in the pages. Lake Winnitt, she informed him, had several opportunities to expand its horizons, but the civic leadership lacked the will to seize them, with the result that even the summer tourist industry was slowly shrinking. The resort where Lydia Axelrod had last been seen had shuttered two years before, and even the promise of gambling had failed to keep others open. Sheriff Lee Moskan was a reasonably decent if unimaginative man who retained his office largely because no one else wanted it. The librarian confirmed that Larry and Edward—"Eddie" to everyone—were Moskan's sons.

"Eddie," she said, " is a good boy…very bright…he's actually gone to the state police academy for training…I think he'd like to get out of here…but he feels loyalty to his father and his brother…but Larry…well…he's a bit of a bully…likes to take advantage of his position…people don't like to cross him…he's been married a couple of times…claims girls won't leave him alone…more like he won't leave girls alone…"

By the time he stepped into the growing dark and cold of Lake Winnitt's late afternoon, Bobby had leaned a great deal about the town and its inhabitants, particularly the Moskans. He was not reassured by the knowledge, especially that Larry Moskan was in the midst of a spending spree. The librarian told Bobby that Moskan claimed he had a streak of luck with the horses.

"It's all circumstantial," Bobby thought, "and really, not even that…" He glanced at the library's small parking lot and saw a brown and white patrol car. Bobby took a quick breath and stepped back inside the library. "I wonder," he politely asked the surprised librarian, "is there a side door close to the hotel? It's a little cold…"

She directed him to a side door. Bobby slipped from it and made sure he was well out of the parking lot's view as he headed towards the hotel. He moved carefully into the woods before he pulled out his cell phone. Bobby held his breath until he heard Alex's voice.

"Bobby…" She sounded as relieved as he felt. "At last. You OWE me. I've had the dubious pleasure of entertaining Sheriff Lee Moskan and Deputy Chief Larry Moskan…"

"I'm sorry, Eames…really sorry…you ok?"

Alex caught the tension in Bobby's voice. "What's wrong? You find something?"

"Maybe…may be nothing…but I think we're being watched very closely…Listen…take my extra room key…go in my room…wait for me…and let me in through the balcony door…I don't want the clerk to know I'm back…"

"Little paranoid, aren't we, Goren?"

"I hope," Bobby answered.

Several moments later, Alex, safely in Bobby's room, heard a soft tapping at the balcony door. Bobby was crouched at it, and Alex quickly let him in. He shivered and shook the snow off his shoulder.

"Paranoia is cold," Alex said as she helped him off with his coat.

Bobby gave her a weak smile. "I hope it's paranoia…what was the sheriff like?"

Alex sat on the bed as Bobby hung up his coat. "Nice enough guy," she said. "But I got some of the "what's a pretty little thing like you doing in a job like this" attitude from him."

"Bet you set him straight," Bobby smiled. He noticed that Alex had brought her computer with her to his room.

"I've dealt with worse…he was polite at least…took me to the diner next door…you missed pretty good pie and coffee…" Alex said. "After he found out I was from a family of cops he warmed up a lot…talked a little about the Axelrod case…he didn't have a lot to do with the actual investigation…he said he put his son Larry on it…and most of it was turned over to the state and NYPD…"

Bobby's face darkened at Larry Moskan's name, a fact that Alex observed.

"And then," she said quietly. "Larry Moskan showed up." Alex paused. "Bobby, you know those cops…the ones you know should never have a gun because they like having it too much?"

Bobby nodded.

"That's what I felt from the moment I laid eyes on Larry Moskan…I tried to keep an open mind, but…" Alex bit her lip. "He gave me a bad feeling…especially the way he looked at and treated me…"

Bobby sat heavily in the chair next to the room's small desk and methodically described to Alex the results of his afternoon's work. Both of their faces grew darker, especially when Bobby mentioned the other disappearances.

"They could be unrelated," Alex said.

"Of course," Bobby agreed. "But we need to check with the state police."

Alex reached for her laptop and frowned. "Someone's tried to break in," she said.

Bobby checked his case. "Mine too."

"The weed," Alex declared.

Bobby took a moment to register the description. "The clerk…"

"Yea," Alex said. "We better check…"

Neither computer showed any sign of tampering; the weed was apparently as bad a thief as a clerk. Bobby and Alex spent the next few moments reading emails, sending off requests for information, and checking files.

"Word from Deakins," Alex told Bobby. "He wants us to check in regularly…and be careful."

Bobby cocked his head. "Right…"

A knock at the door interrupted their work; Bobby and Alex shared a cautious look. Both logged off and shut down their computers, placed them in their cases and locked them. Bobby handed his computer to Alex, and as he moved to the door she placed both in the closet. A second, more persistent knock sounded as Bobby looked through the peephole.

"Larry Moskan," he mouthed, and cocked his head towards the bathroom. Alex nodded, picked up any evidence of her existence, and slipped into the bathroom.

"Don't leave me in here and out of the fun," she whispered to Bobby.

Alex sat in the bathroom for several minutes. She left the door as far open as she dared and occasionally fingered her gun. She could catch a few frustrating bits of the conversation, just enough to catch that Bobby was playing the big, dumb, macho cop with Moskan. Alex caught a few references to "pretty little partner" which managed to raise her blood pressure. She heard someone coming towards the bathroom; Alex stepped back just as Bobby entered and turned on the overhead vent and the sink faucets.

"He wants to takes us to dinner…more like pump us for information…" Alex could just hear Bobby over the noise. "I've convinced him my partner is too exhausted…"

"Your "pretty little partner"," Alex said with a little irritation.

Bobby gave her a troubled look, and Alex realized he was likely more upset than she was. "I'm sorry, Eames…at the very least this guy is a jerk…and I'm going to have to act like a jerk to deal with him."

Alex reached out and placed a hand on Bobby's arm; a comfortable, familiar current buzzed between them.

"I know you've got my back," she said.

"And I've got yours…but stay in this room, ok? If I'm not back in three hours, call Deakins." Bobby turned off the water and the vent and left the bathroom. Alex heard a brief murmur of voices and the sound of a door shutting.

"Be careful," she whispered into the dark silence.

Alex spent the next hour or so examining the evidence. As Bobby said, there was nothing beyond vague hints, but, combined with her contact with Larry Moskan, it was enough to increase Alex's sense of unease. "I'll be glad when Bobby gets back," Alex thought, and she realized hunger had started to gnaw at her. "Rats…I don't want to leave…there's no room service…" She sighed and resigned herself to a wait.

At first, she thought the sound was her stomach. Alex then realized the sound came not from her or inside the room but from just outside the door. She rose from the chair, cautiously checked on her gun, and moved towards the door. She heard the soft sweep of a key card, but every cell in her body told her that the figure behind the card was not her partner. Alex took a deep breath and leveled her weapon at the opening door.

END Chapter Three


	4. Chapter 4

As always, thanks for the reviews--and the criticism. I really should get a beta (sigh).

Chapter Four

The door swung slowly open to reveal the weedy clerk. He gave a small cry and blinked; Alex noted with some satisfaction that he appeared to be about to wet himself in terror.

"And just what are you doing here?" Alex asked coldly. She kept her gun trained on the wavering man.

"I…just checking…to see if…there were enough towels," he squeaked. His eyes locked on Alex's gun.

Bobby might have advised a more cautious route, but Alex decided to lay her cards on the table. "Is that what you were doing when you tried to get into our computers?"

"I…I don't know what you're talking about…"

Alex felt a momentary wave of pity for the weed, who clearly would be challenged by a flea, let alone Larry Moskan. "Please," she said with a little less disgust in her voice and tension in her trigger finger, "We know…"

The clerk collapsed. In a series of fits and starts, punctuated by protests of his innocence, he told Alex that Larry Moskan had forced him to spy on her and Bobby and to search their rooms.

"You don't know him," the clerk said. "Larry…you don't cross Larry…the only things that keep him in control are his brother and his father…and his dad is loosing…"

The weed, Alex discovered, wasn't a bad man, just a weak one. After getting a promise—one she didn't expect to be kept—that Larry Moskan wouldn't learn of this encounter, Alex let the clerk return to his work. She felt confident that he at least wouldn't be searching her and Bobby's belongings in the near future, but she kept her gun close as she returned to examining the files.

She was enormously relieved when she heard Bobby's knock on the door. He entered quickly, shooting a look over his shoulder as he stepped in the room. Alex let out a breath she wasn't aware she had been holding; Bobby's physical presence was remarkably comforting. He handed her a small bag.

"Dinner…or something like it," he said in a low strained voice. His eyes were dark and troubled.

Alex took the bag and stepped in the bathroom to get coffee. She handed a cup to Bobby and then checked the contents of the bag.

"Ah…soup and a club sandwich…and pie." Alex studied Bobby. "So…"

"That was," Bobby said sitting heavily in the room's one reasonably comfortable chair, "one of the more uncomfortable experiences of my life…"

"Larry Moskann not a pleasant dinner companion," Alex said as she bit into her sandwich.

"I've seen some real pieces of…but a better combination of a bully and a jerk than Larry Moskan would be hard to find…" Bobby shook his head. "I'm not a perfect man, Alex…but I try not to be an insensitive jerk…for the past two hours…what I've had to listen to…why someone hasn't…"

"You played big macho cop with him?" Alex looked at him sympathetically; she knew Bobby hated playing a jerk and men who were jerks.

"Yea…and I feel like I need a shower…we have to watch each other on this, Eames…and make sure we're following the evidence and not letting our personal feelings about Larry Moskaninfluence us." Bobby pulled his boots off.

"I've been going over the evidence…I'm afraid it's really there…" Alex said quietly.

Bobby nodded. "I was afraid of that…I did get to meet the other Moskan brother…Eddie."

"What was he like?" Alex asked.

"Nothing like his brother…only a little like his father…quiet, intelligent…he might have seen through my act…"

"I had an interesting encounter of my own," Alex said. As she described her conversation with the hotel clerk, she tried for a light tone, but the shadows darkened in Bobby's eyes, just as they had in Alex's when he told her of the Moskan brothers.

"I don't feel good about any of this," Bobby said quietly.

"Neither do I…I feel…well, exposed…I don't like it," Alex replied. "Let's check our email…maybe something has come up…"

Alex and Bobby's teamwork was legendary throughout the NYPD. Watching them go over evidence during the Garrett case, Carolyn Barek commented to Mike Logan that she would know that they were partners when they could communicate as well as Eames and Goren. Logan grinned and shook his head. "I've had good partners," he said. "They go beyond that…they've got some ESP thing going." For the next two hours, Bobby and Alex's connections were on their highest speed; they barely spoke as they showed evidence to each other.

"We've got it," Alex said suddenly.

Bobby's head shot up. "What?" He moved over to the bed to see Alex's computer screen.

"There…we owe Barek and Logan…they traced the certificate…it was cashed at a bank fifty miles from here…and the bank officials identified Larry Moskan as the man who cashed it…but he used another id…"

"His brother Eddie's…." Bobby read over her shoulder. "With a false name on that…"

"He had to cash the certificate…time was nearly up on it…"

"That should be enough to connect Moskan with the Axlerod girl…"

Alex nodded. "It is…I've got an email from Carver saying he's trying for a warrant…but…" She frowned. "He's having trouble dealing with the locals…can't have anything until tomorrow…"

A weight settled in Bobby's chest. He moved to the desk and checked his cell phone. "No signal," he muttered.

"I've got an email from Deakins…he wants us out of here…" Alex's eyes met Bobby's. "Says he can't reach us through our cells…signal's out…he says a blizzard is coming tomorrow…and he doesn't like the spot we're in…Wants us to leave first thing tomorrow…"

Bobby studied his computer screen. "I've got responses from the state police…couple other sources…there's some indication…the other disappearances…Larry Moskan was in the areas when and where they disappeared…" Bobby leaned back in his chair. "Damn," he said.

"What is it, Bobby?"

"It's just…the things he said…everything…it indicated he has a deep hatred of women…especially successful women…and what he said about you…" Bobby hesitated, uncertain if he should continue.

"If you're trying to scare me, Goren, you're doing a good job…" Alex's voice was soft and tense.

"The victims…all…" Bobby swallowed.

"Small blondes." Alex's voice was flat.

Bobby finally broke the awful silence. "We could leave now."

"It's nearly midnight," Alex replied. "We're both exhausted…don't say you're not, Bobby…it's as true for you as it is for me…we were barely able to find this place in the daylight…and we're being watched and our leaving in the middle of the night will set off too many alarms…"

Bobby was typing on his computer as she spoke, but Alex knew from the angle of his head that he registered every one of her words.

"If," he said quietly, "we leave early tomorrow, we should be back at that little airport before the blizzard hits…and out of Larry Moskan's reach…I don't think he knows that we know about the disappearances of the other women and his possible connection to them…he may know what we know about the certificate, but he won't want to act right away…"

Alex nodded and sighed. "I don't suppose we can just arrest this guy…"

Bobby shook his head. "Nope…sorry…don't have the evidence…I'm not sure we have enough to even bring the state police in…and arresting him here…I don't think Eddie would be a problem, but the father…"

"Deakins has been in touch with the local state police captain…he knows we're here and has offered to keep in touch…seems he owes Deakins a favor…"

"Everyone owes Deakins a favor," Bobby commented.

Alex gave him a quick smile. "Hey, I'm in charge of the snark in this partnership."

"Sorry." Bobby returned the smile. "Hey…that car has a security system?"

"Amazingly enough, yes…and it's on."

Bobby rubbed the back of his neck. "We at least can see the parking lot from here…and if somebody messes with it we should hear it…"

"So," Alex said. "Early tomorrow…"

"Yea."

Alex yawned and stretched.

"You're right, Eames…you need to get some sleep…" Bobby said.

"Yea, if I can in the middle of all this." Alex stretched.

Bobby stood and began pacing. "Uh…Eames…please don't take this the wrong way…but…uh…maybe…I think…you should…we should…together…"

In spite of their danger and her exhaustion, Alex smiled at the sight of a shy Bobby Goren.

"Just spit out, Bobby," she said.

He gave her a wan smile. "Ok…I don't think we should be apart tonight. I don't think we should be in separate rooms." Bobby turned away from Alex as he spoke; he suddenly found he couldn't face her.

Alex felt a rush of red to her face. "Well," she said trying to keep her voice even, "at least I know this isn't some wild romantic proposal, Goren."

Bobby chanced a look over his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Eames…it's just that I feel like we're in enemy territory here…"

Alex felt a wave of sympathy and empathy. "Me too. I admit I'd feel better…probably sleep better…if we were in the same room."

He turned, finally able to face her. "This room…probably the safer bet…"

Alex nodded. "I'll get my stuff from the other room…then we can get out quickly tomorrow…"

Bobby stood watch as Alex gathered her things from the neighboring room. As she passed by him he checked up and down the hall.

"I don't think the weed will bother us again," Alex said.

Bobby stared out the window. "The weed's not worrying me."

"So," Alex said with a touch of nerves, "who's sleeping where?"

"You get the bed," Bobby said decisively. He moved to the closet and pulled out extra blankets and pillows. "I'll be fine…"

"Robert Goren, you're not going to sleep in a chair…or on the floor," Alex began.

"I've slept in a lot worse places," Bobby said. "Look, if you're really worried, we can take shifts…one of us takes the chair and keeps an eye out…then the other…but I take watch first…"

Alex was too tired to argue. She nodded and headed to the bathroom to change, glad that she had packed her flannel pajamas. She emerged to find Bobby, dressed in sweatpants and a long sleeved t-shirt and wrapped in a blanket, seated on the room's only semi-comfortable chair. His sock clad feet were propped up on the desk, and he held a book. The small lamp from the desk that illuminated the pages provided the only light in the room. Alex noted that Bobby's perch offered a clear view of the parking lot and their car.

"You WILL wake me up?" Alex said as she slipped beneath the covers.

"Uh…yea…" He barely raised his eyes from the page.

Alex sighed and pulled the blankets over her. She looked at Bobby, bathed in the soft, warm light; in spite of the dark clouds around them she felt safe in his presence.

"Eames?" Bobby's soft voice brought her from the edge of sleep.

"H-m-m…yea?"

"The light…it isn't bothering you?"

"No…thanks for asking."

"Good…good night, Alex."

"Good night, Bobby." And she realized he had used her first name.

She pushed the pillow beneath her head so she could clearly study him. She would be hard pressed to argue that Bobby Goren met the conventional definitions of handsome, and it was difficult to apply the word "cute" to a man standing nearly six and a half feet high. But there were elements about him—those full, sensuous lips (Alex knew women who would trade a finger for lips like that); the long elegant fingers that held both a promise and a threat; and the deep chocolate eyes covered by lashes so long that they were wasted on a male. Alex knew how to read those dark pools, and that what made Robert Goren Robert Goren came from them. A strong, warm hand wrapped around Alex's heart and squeezed it. She stifled a cry and huddled deeper beneath the blankets. Bobby, who was conscious of her every breath, looked up from his book. "Please…not now," Alex thought. "If he says something to me now…if he touches me…I'll burn up from the inside…"After a moment, Bobby's attention returned to his book. Alex relaxed. "Oh, no," she thought. "I'm in love with him…." As she drifted into an exhausted sleep, Alex couldn't tell what frightened her more, the figure of Larry Moskan or that she loved Bobby Goren.

At the sound of Alex's soft cry, Bobby raised his head from his book. She seemed to be all right. "Probably a bad dream," he thought, "and who could blame her...I'm scared too…" He rubbed the back of his neck. Larry Moskan's comments about Alex at dinner had nearly forced Bobby's mask to slip. Fortunately, Moskan lacked the intelligence and sensitivity to notice. Eddie Moskan, who arrived just after the coffee and pie, appeared to see through at least part of Bobby's performance. Bobby found the younger Moskan a sympathetic figure. When his older brother left them for a few moments, Eddie apologized for his sibling's behavior, and began asking Bobby about working for the NYPD. Bobby sensed the young man wanted out of Lake Winnitt and that there was a decent individual struggling to escape from his father and brother. "Something you know a little about, Goren," Bobby thought grimly. "Don't go there…you need a clear head right now for you and Alex…" He stared out at the rental car, wishing that their escape from Lake Winnitt depended on something more substantial. Sighing, Bobby pulled the blanket closer around him and returned to his book.

Alex cooed softly; she had always wondered how his large hands would feel on her skin. Now she knew that they could easily cover her breasts; that the small calluses on his fingertips could raise intense spots of fire; that his thumbs flicking gently over her nipples could send sparks of electricity through her body. "Bobby, Bobby, " she moaned into his mouth.

"Eames…Eames…"

Alex frowned. Why was his voice so quiet and tense? Why was he using her last name? And where did her pajamas come from? Blinking, Alex looked into Bobby's eyes. The room was filled with a ghostly hue from the light reflected on the snow; Bobby's pale skin was translucent, a strange blue shade. He leaned over her and whispered.

"Someone is trying to get into what was your room."

End Chapter 4


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Bobby stepped away from the bed and moved towards the patio door. Alex slipped from beneath the covers and followed him. Pricks of cold pierced through her flannel pajamas. She followed Bobby and stared out the glass door; she made out a large figure bent over the door to the neighboring room. Fear seized her, and Alex shook. She immediately felt Bobby's large, warm hand on her back; without thinking, Alex leaned back into it. Bobby's other arm rose to wrap around her. Everything—fear, love, want, need, comfort—swept through Alex. "I'll be all right," she thought. "As long as I'm with Bobby, I'll be all right."

Bobby gently pressed against her. "Don't worry," he whispered. "We can handle this…together, we're ok."

Alex nodded. Bobby softly slipped away from her and stepped over to the desk. He collected their guns, and handed Alex her weapon. With a tilt of his head, he motioned Alex to move closer to the door; as she moved, Bobby returned to his post near the patio door. Alex tried to make sense of her feelings. She did not like being taken care of—it was one of the few frequent battles with her family and her late husband. One of the strong points of their partnership was Bobby's refusal to allow his protective streak to emerge. At the moment, Alex thought, it wasn't that she wanted or needed Bobby to take care of her—it was that she knew he would do it if she wanted or needed him.

Bobby peered through the curtain at the figure at the neighboring room's door. It was too bulky to be Eddie Moskan, and Bobby doubted Sheriff Lee Maskon was wandering about in the near zero temperatures in the middle of the night. The figure had to be Larry Moskan and he wanted to…to hurt Alex. An unreasoning wave of possession and protectiveness flowed through Bobby, and his hand tightened its grip on his gun. This monster, this thing, wanted to hurt, to take, his partner, his friend, his soul mate…his Alex. Bobby took a deep breath and glanced at Alex. In spite of his anger and the tension of the moment, he suppressed a smile. Clad in her flannel pajamas dotted with puppies and clutching her weapon, Alex looked slightly ridiculous. Bobby decided he would wait until later to make this observation to Alex, preferably at a time when she wasn't holding her gun.

The sound of a sharp snap drew Bobby's attention back to the patio. The figure stood up and then slipped into the room. Alex and Bobby heard a muffled, angry cry. Bobby looked at Alex and then switched on the patio light. They heard a howl of surprise from the next room, and Bobby drew open the curtains. Larry Moskan stood stunned in the light for a brief moment. Bobby braced for his attack, but Moskan spun and ran towards the parking lot.

"Get dressed," Bobby said, his eyes straining to follow Moskan. "We're leaving now."

Alex had already grabbed her clothes, but the command in Bobby's voice startled her. "Well," she thought as she entered the bathroom, "he was in the Army…" She dressed quickly and emerged to find Bobby dressed and surrounded by their computers and bags. He jerked open the patio door.

"Let's move…the hotel can bill the NYPD." He scanned the area, but clouds were blotting out the moon.

They plodded through the snow to the car; Alex unlocked it and slipped behind the wheel as Bobby threw their luggage in the back seat. "Damn," Alex said as she started the car.

Bobby leaned in through the open front passenger side door. "What?"

"We need to get the windshield clear…wipers need some help…I think there's a scraper in the trunk."

"Got it," Bobby said and headed to the back of the car. Alex released the trunk lid and stepped out of the car to try to loosen the wiper blades.

The blow slammed into her so hard that Alex at first thought her back must have been broken. She sprawled across the hood of the car; she felt the car jerk and heard a ragged moan. She tried to scream, to yell for Bobby, but her lungs lacked air. Something grabbed her right arm and yanked it painfully behind her. Alex struggled not to panic and gulped air. She was spun around and slammed back down on the hood.

Larry Moskan loomed over her. "Leaving without saying goodbye?" he whispered. "You and your boyfriend having a good time? What say you and me have a good time?"

"Bobby," Alex thought. "Where was Bobby? Is he all right?"

Moskan pressed against her. "Don't worry…my daddy's taking care of your boyfriend…"

Alex closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and relaxed. A surprised Moskan slightly relaxed his grip; it was enough to allow Alex to drive her knee into his groin. It was a direct and hard hit; Moskan was in too much pain to even scream. He stumbled away from her; Alex slid to the ground. As she struggled to her knees, a large, dark shape roared past her and wildly swung at Moskan. The shape turned and loomed over her. Alex lifted her head to see Bobby's white face; blood streamed from his nose. She winced as he pulled her to her feet.

"Please, Alex…c'mon…we gotta move…"

Bobby yanked open the car door and pushed Alex in and across to the passenger side. He slammed the door shut and spun the car backwards; Lee Moskan's bloody face loomed for a moment in the side window, and then disappeared as Bobby revved the car out of the parking lot.

Alex painfully sat up; her back and arm hurt, and she feared something was broken. She glanced at Bobby, who strained to see through the windshield.

"What…happened?" Her voice echoed in her head.

"We got ambushed…we're lucky…Lee Moskan reflexes aren't what they once were and you're a lot tougher than Larry Moskan expected. Damn!" Bobby struggled to keep the car on the road.

They were at the edge of the small town, and the road began a climb with jagged curves. A siren's howl sounded behind them. Alex took a ragged breath and pulled her gun from her coat.

"He's after us," she said with desperation.

Bobby nodded. Both he and Alex knew they were in serious trouble. Moskan knew the roads, knew the area, and had a more powerful car.

He was on them just after they reached the top of the hill. Bobby was driving the small car as fast as he dared and was on the edge of loosing control. He could barely see the road, and the car fishtailed across the icy road. Moskan bore down on them, his headlights filling their car with a bright, white light. Alex rolled down her window and stuck her head out; the wind swept over her like a great icy wave. She took a wild, desperate shot at Moskan's tires. It was an impossible shot, even for one of the NYPD's acknowledged best marksmen, but Alex hit something. Moskan's car suddenly jolted forward and clipped the back of the tiny rental car. Bobby struggled wildly to control the wheel, but both cars went into wild spins. Moskan's car slammed into Bobby and Alex with a horrible crash, and the two cars' tires squealed as they flew off the road to land with dull thuds in the snow. The roar of the wind and the rush of the rapidly increasing snow covered the hiss of steam escaping from the two wrecks.

It was cold…so cold…everything was so cold…except for something warm on his face…Bobby Goren couldn't remember being so cold; even the cold nights he spent on watch in Germany and Korea in the Army seemed warm in comparison. He tried to move, and was rewarded with a wave of pain for his effort. "Alex…" he thought, "where's Alex…" He became aware of something crumpled against him, and found Alex's unconscious body slumped against him. He moved carefully.

"Alex…please…Alex," Bobby struggled against the pain and panic rising in him. He scarcely dared to move for fear of hurting her. "Please," he pleaded as much with a God he was afraid to believe in as with Alex, "Alex…please wake up…I need you…" His heart leaped at her soft moan.

It was cold…so cold…and her head hurt…and her left arm…and her back…and chest…but there was something large and soft and warm under her…and it was talking to her. She just wanted to rest…to sleep…but Bobby…where was he? Was he all right? Alex moaned and opened her eyes.

"Bobby?" she whispered. "What…?" And the memories of the past few hours swept over her. Alex shook violently, and the resulting pain nearly caused her to pass out.

"Alex…please…hold on…please…stay with me…I…I need you…we gotta stay together." Bobby's voice was soft and strained.

"Uh…I'm…Bobby…where are we?" Alex slowly raised her hand to his face. "You're hurt…"

Bobby flinched and reached for her hand.

"Alex," he said urgently, "can you move…we need to try to get out of here…"

"I…think…so…but you…there's blood…a lot…on your face…"

"It's not that bad…c'mon…"

They struggled painfully and slowly out of the car. For a moment they stood shivering beside the car; it lay on its side in a snow drift. One door was jammed open, and the windshield was cracked. It was clearly useless as either transportation or shelter. Both Alex and Bobby tried to take stock of their injuries without alarming the other. Alex's head ached; her left arm and shoulder hurt; and she feared she might have a broken rib. Bobby also feared for his ribs; his knees hurt from where they had banged against the steering wheel; his head rang with pain; and his right ankle expressed serious doubts about bearing his weight. The wind and snow howled and blew around them with increasing ferocity.

"Ok," Bobby thought. "We need shelter…and soon…" He bent down to reach back in the car for the map of the area.

"Where's…where did…where's Moskan?" Alex asked.

"Right here, bitch!" Larry Moskan roared from behind them.

Bobby and Alex spun to find Moskan, his gun drawn and leveled at them, standing in front of his wrecked car. Alex reflexively reached for her gun, but she had lost it in the wreck; Bobby also had no idea where his weapon was.

"You and boyfriend thought you could get away…big shot detectives…you're not going to tell anyone what you know…"

Bobby inched forward to try to get between Alex and Moskan.

"Moskan," he said softly, "our captain knows…the state police know…it's over…"

"Shut up!" Moskan's grip on his gun tightened.

Bobby was about to speak again when a familiar smell hit his nose. "Moskan…be careful…there's gas…"

Moskan stared at his feet where the liquid had started to pool. Taking advantage of the brief distraction, Bobby threw his body around Alex and sent them both flying behind a drift. Moskan screamed in frustration.

"Moskan!" Bobby yelled. "Don't fire…"

A shot echoed, followed by an explosion; even behind the drift, Alex and Bobby both felt the sudden, terrible, searing heat. Then they heard the screams; both lifted their heads to see Larry Moskan, enveloped in flames, fall back into the wreckage of his blazing car. Propelled by his training and instincts, Bobby rushed forward. Alex grabbed at his coat.

"Bobby! No! You can't help him!" His coat slipped through her hands.

Bobby stumbled through the snow, pain shooting through his legs. Moskan's screams for help echoed through the forest; Bobby desperately tried to reach him, but the heat forced him back. He fell heavily to his battered knees. The screams finally stopped, leaving only the sound of the increasingly heavy snow beating down the flames.

"Oh, God," Alex said as she stared at the sheriff's car. "What a horrible way…" She shuddered, and dropped to her knees next to Bobby.

Bobby staggered to his feet. He reached for Alex. "We…we…gotta…think…find someplace…"

They stumbled back to their car. Bobby reached inside the car and pulled out their overnight bags. He discovered his gun on the seat and grabbed it.

"What…what are you…" Alex viewed his actions through a pain and cold filled haze.

Bobby turned to her and gently placed his hands on her shoulder. "Alex," he said urgently, "we have to get out of this storm…out of the cold…"

Alex focused on Bobby. "We can't go back to the town…the sheriff…"

"And we're probably too far away…but…look on this map…there's a resort not too far away…"

"But…it'll be closed…and can we get there in this weather…"

Bobby stuffed his binder into his bag and pulled out his and Alex's hats. "Don't let her know how scared you are," Bobby thought. "We can't panic…we gotta stay together…keep going…"

"If it's closed, we'll break in…after all, we've got the skills…" Bobby gave Alex a reassuring smile. "And it's not that far…I've got my compass…we can do this."

"What about our cell phones?" Alex asked. She took her hat from Bobby and jammed it on her head.

Bobby suddenly felt stupid. He checked his pocket and pulled out his cell. "No signal," he said. "Maybe if we move…"

"Mine's…broke," Alex said starring at the pieces in her hand.

Bobby folded his hand over hers. "We'll turn mine off…save the battery." He saw the despair in her eyes. "Alex…listen to me…Deakins knows we're here…the state police know…they will look for us…we just have to stay warm and keep going…we can do this…I've been trained in this…you're tough and strong…we can do this…"

Alex stared in his eyes. "Ok," she said. "Which way…"

They struggled painfully up to the road. By the time they reached it both Bobby and Alex rasped with pain.

"You're…limping," Alex said.

"Just…ankle…banged up a little." Bobby studied her carefully. "What about you?"

"Like you…little banged up," Alex said stubbornly. She shouldered her bag carefully. "Let's go."

Bobby considered their options. The road might be easier to walk and follow, but it would take longer to reach the resort. And, if Lee Moskan came after them, they would be vulnerable. A route through the woods would offer more difficult walking but also some protection from the snow and wind and a more direct path to shelter. He presented the merits and debits of each to Alex.

"You're the expert," she said quietly. "I trust you."

Bobby thought she wasn't just speaking of their route. He could already feel the cold working against him; it could only be worse for Alex. They needed shelter, and they needed it as soon as possible.

"Ok," he said. "Woods."

As they began the long, slow trek, the wind and snow blew mercilessly against them.

End Chapter 5


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"I'm never going to let you drive again, Goren."

In spite of the cold and his pain, Bobby smiled.

"You won't get any argument from me about that, Eames."

He helped her through a drift; he could tell she was struggling with her own pain. The trees offered some protection from the bitter wind and driving snow, but moving through the drifts was more like wading than walking.

"Damn," Alex said. "There are times I really hate being short." She gasped for breath.

Bobby, trying to use his size to block her from the wind, stepped closer to her. "It's not much farther," he said quietly.

"You're sure? We've been walking for a couple of hours now." Alex raised her wind whipped face to her.

"Yes," Bobby replied with a confidence he didn't quite feel. "The snow is just slowing us…we'll get there soon."

Alex nodded, and they continued fighting through the snow. Bobby was reasonably sure they were headed in the right direction, but there were so many variables. He was pretty sure he knew where they started; he knew that his compass was reliable. But the blizzard blotted out the sun; the map could be incorrect—so many things could be wrong. Bobby shook his head. "You've been trained for this," he thought. "You got yourself and others out of worse spots…just keep going…keep Alex going."

The wind blew ferociously against them. Alex tried to stay by Bobby's side. Her feet felt like two blocks of stone, her hands stung from the cold, and her shoulder and side throbbed with pain. She stumbled and lurched against Bobby, nearly sending them both to the ground. He caught her and helped her stand.

"I…I used to like snow," Alex said. "Sledding, snowballs, coming in for hot chocolate…"

Bobby slipped her bag from her shoulder and placed it on his. "I owe you an Irish coffee…" he said.

Alex bit her lip in frustration. "I'm…I'm slowing you down…"

"It's ok," Bobby said over the howling wind. "I've got better boots…and a bit of a size advantage…"

With Bobby leading, they trudged on. The cold had eased the pain in his ankle a bit, but his chest hurt with every breath and his head pounded. "Have to keep going," Bobby thought. "It can't be too far…you know you're going straight…keep going…for Alex…for Alex…"

He was suddenly aware that Alex wasn't behind him. He turned and discovered her slumped against a tree. He slogged quickly through the snow to reach her. She was still standing, although the tree bore most of her weight. Her eyes were closed, and her body shook.

"Alex," Bobby pleaded. "Please…it's not far…I promise…please…"

Her eyes opened.

"Bobby…I can't…my legs…feet…there's nothing left…I…I'm sorry." Tears formed in her eyes. "You should go ahead…get help…send them back for me…"

"No!" Bobby took her arms as gently as he could. "Alex…we're in this together…I will not leave you…It's not far…I swear…"

Alex tried to take a step, but her legs buckled and she fell into Bobby.

"I'm sorry…I can't…"

"It's ok…" Bobby took a deep breath and gently leaned Alex against the tree. He slipped the bags off his shoulder and placed them on Alex. She stared at him.

"What…what are you doing?" she asked numbly.

"Here," Bobby's voice was grim and resigned. "Get on my back."

"Bobby…you can't carry me…and the bags."

"We need what's in those bags. It's not far."

"Bobby…you're hurt…you can't…"

"Alex, if you don't get on my back, I will stay out here with you and we'll both freeze to death."

Alex conceded. Bobby squatted, and she climbed on his back. In spite of his best efforts, a sharp gasp of pain escaped Bobby as he stood.

"Bobby," Alex's desperate voice sounded near his ear, "Are you sure?"

"Yes," he said firmly.

The pain was horrible. Each step sent a wave throughout his body, and the cold and snow were slowly, terribly wearing him down. Alex tucked her head between his shoulder and head; the only relief was her warmth against his neck. The trees were less thick, and the wind hit them with tiny knives. "I'm going to get us both killed," Bobby thought. "Should've stayed at the hotel…not confronted Moskan…called state police…stayed with the car…took road…it hurts so much…Alex…please forgive me…I'm sorry…so sorry…what if we're walking in circles…if I'm wrong…please…let me help her…"

"Bobby!" Alex's voice echoed in his head. "What's that?"

Bobby lifted his head and peered into the storm. There was a clearing, and he could just make out the form of a building. He staggered forward a few steps.

"Bobby, let me down…I think I can make it ..."

He lacked the strength to argue. Bobby dropped heavily to his knees, and Alex slid off his back. He struggled to his feet and took his bag from Alex.

They slid, stumbled, and staggered through the clearing. At one point Bobby thought there might be pavement beneath the snow. Through the driving snow, the building was revealed as a small lodge. Bobby and Alex pushed and pulled each other up its steps to what appeared to be the front door. Bobby desperately grabbed at the door handle; it refused to yield. Alex stumbled down the porch to a window.

"We can probably break in here," she said. "But it's probably wired…"

Bobby breathed heavily. "Connected to the local police…but maybe just the state…"

Alex looked at him with troubled eyes. "Or it could bring the Moskans…"

Bobby shook his head. "We don't have much choice…we need to get inside…"

He reached inside his coat and fumbled to bring out his gun. His stiff fingers could barely close around the gun, and it took nearly all of his remaining strength to slam it into the window. His initial efforts barely cracked the glass, and Alex felt desperate frustration rise in her. With an angry cry, Bobby flung his gun at the window, and it finally shattered. Alex and Bobby threw their bags inside the lodge and followed them through the window.

They stood, breathing heavily and wavering, and checked their surroundings. Just being out of the icy wind and stabbing snow was an enormous relief. They were in a lobby of a clearly unoccupied hotel. The few furnishings were bare, and cloths covered some items of furniture.

"Fireplace," Bobby said in a hopeful voice and pointed to a large room to their right.

The room appeared to be a common gathering room, and a large fireplace dominated one wall. Several good sized logs and kindling were piled on its sides. A few chairs and couches too large to be easily moved dotted the room. Alex and Bobby stumbled down the few stairs and into the room. Bobby moved to the fireplace; Alex picked up the receiver of a phone.

"Dead," she said flatly.

"Alex," Bobby called to her in a ragged voice. "I need your help…"

Alex limped over to the fireplace. She was still horribly cold, but the circulation was beginning to slowly and painfully return to her feet and hands. She started to try to take off her gloves, but Bobby stopped her.

"Keep…keep things on…until we get the fire started…warmer…" The words took some effort for him.

"But…my gloves…hat…they're wet," Alex said.

"We're both…at risk for hypothermia…even wet clothes…help keep you warm…Here….help me get these logs in the grate…"

They managed to place a couple of logs in the fireplace. Alex noted that Bobby appeared to be near the end of his strength.

"Sit down," she told him gently. "I can get the fire started…"

He tried to protest, but finally fell heavily on the couch nearest the fireplace. He watched as she placed kindling beneath the grate.

"You're…good at that," Bobby rasped.

"The Eames that aren't firemen are well known firebugs," Alex said. "How are we going to start this…"

Bobby fumbled painfully in his pocket and drew out a lighter. "I hope there's something in that…I haven't used it much since I stopped smoking…"

Alex took the lighter; it took her thawing fingers several tries to get the lighter to work, and both she and Bobby let out a relieved breath when the slender blue flame darted up. Alex held it to the kindling, and they again held their breaths until a larger flame flared on the dry wood. Alex fell back on the couch as the flame rose and spread to the rest of the kindling and then to the logs. The logs were blessedly dry and ready to burn, and warmth flooded over Alex and Bobby.

Alex pulled her hat and gloves off.

"Your…hands…fingers…." Bobby rasped. "Are they all right?"

Alex examined them. "A little red…and they hurt and tingle…"

Bobby nodded in relief. "Not white?"

Alex shook her head.

"Good…good…maybe just a little frostbit…not bad…" It took him more and more effort to speak.

Alex turned to him, and the full extent of Bobby's injuries struck her. His face was pale and bruised and blood covered his nose and forehead. Alex tried to remove his hat, and Bobby winced; she realized his hat was stuck to his hair with blood.

"Oh, Bobby," she murmured and gently pulled off the hat.

"We'll be ok…warm…now…away from the storm…just need some rest…for a while…" He mumbled.

Alex's strength was also disappearing with the languid warmth from the fire.

"Should get your clothes…help you…" she said.

"Later…rest now…we'll be ok…together…" Bobby murmured.

Alex curled against him; his arm pressed around her. Exhaustion took them both, and they drifted into unconsciousness.

Alex blinked and winced. She rose carefully, trying to avoid stretching any of her muscles. Her arm and sides still hurt, but she was warm—blessedly, wonderfully warm. The fire still blazed in the fireplace, but the light from the windows was dim and snow still poured from the sky. "Bobby," Alex thought and turned her attention to her partner. She moved slowly and carefully. Bobby was sprawled over the end of the couch; blood matted his hair and spotted his face. There were dark bruises on his right cheek and chin, and he was so pale his skin seemed almost blue. He was deeply asleep, his breathing regular but shallow.

Alex slipped out of her coat; it was heavy with moisture from melted snow. She draped it over the end of the large couch, and began to unbutton Bobby's coat. She moved as quietly and gently as she could, but Bobby groaned and blinked his eyes.

"Wh…what…where…" he gasped painfully.

"Easy…easy," Alex said softly. "We're in the hotel…you got us here…"

She eased him out of the heavy coat and laid it on a nearby chair.

"Are…are you…all right?" Bobby asked as she helped him out of his gloves.

"Stiff…a little sore…I'm not too sure about my ribs…but a lot better than a few hours ago…"

"You…need…to check your feet…make sure you don't have any frostbite…" Bobby struggled to sit up.

"Easy…let me check on you first…" Alex examined Bobby's fingers. They were a bit red and seemed a little swollen. "Can you move your hands ok? Feel them?"

Bobby wiggled his fingers. "A little sore…but ok, I think…"

Alex slid carefully off the couch to check Bobby's feet.

"Oh…God…Bobby…your pants…below your knees…they're soaked…blood…" Alex touched his right knee, and Bobby stiffened with pain.

"Cut…musta…accident…"

Alex struggled to untie the wet laces on Bobby's boots; his feet were so swollen that it was difficult to get the boots and socks off. The toes on his left foot were red, but Bobby could, with some effort, move them. Alex gasped when she finally eased the sock off his right foot; the ankle was terribly swollen and the colors of some terrible rainbow of purple, green, blue, and black. She looked at Bobby, who was even paler from the pain.

"Bobby…you…walked…carried me…on this?" She stared at him in amazement.

"Cold…helped…adrenaline…Had to…you couldn't very well carry me." He tried to smile at her.

"It…may be broken," Alex said.

Bobby shivered and coughed; tears formed in his eyes from the pain.

"Are you still cold?" Alex asked.

He nodded. "I'm afraid," he whispered. "I might be in shock…or just not warming up as quickly as you…"

Alex stood up slowly and tested her feet. It was not entirely pleasant to be upright and mobile, but she could manage.

"I'll get our bags…and see what I can find."

"Take…my gun with you…" Bobby handed it to her.

"Ok," Alex said. "You check to see if your cell is working."

Bobby turned to watch her walk back towards the main desk. He called to her.

"Keep talking, if you can. Tell me what you find." He slumped back on the couch; the short call took a tremendous amount of energy.

"I will," Alex called. "There's a small dining room here…and a kitchen…" Her voice grew fainter; Bobby thought he heard something about "some things." He turned his attention to his phone; there was the indication of the slightest of signals and several messages. Bobby ignored the messages—no need to waste the battery—and dialed his captain. The signal was so weak that Bobby couldn't tell if the phone rang and was answered; there seemed to be someone garbling his name. Bobby took a chance.

"Captain…don't know if you can hear me…Alex and I…trouble with Larry Manskon…car accident…we're in a closed hotel…both hurt…Larry Manskon is dead…Lee Manskon also involved in some crimes…please…" Bobby gasped and shivered; it was hard for him to think. "Cell phone…mine…signal weak…Alex's broke…please…" Bobby heard nothing but empty air. "Damn," he said staring at the phone. He turned the phone off and heard Alex's voice.

"I've found housekeeping…blankets…other things…" Her voice grew stronger as she moved back towards him. "First aid kit…"

Bobby turned slowly towards her voice. Alex, pushing a luggage cart, emerged from the lobby. As she approached, Bobby could see the cart was laden with their bags, blankets, pillows, and several boxes and pans.

"There's no electricity," she said. "And no hot water…but there is cold…so we have toilets and fresh water…" She stopped to take a breath.

"Are you ok?" Bobby asked with some alarm.

Alex gave him a reassuring smile. "Just need to be careful."

She pulled blankets and pillows from the cart and placed them next to the couch, followed by a large first aid kit, some mugs, several large bottles of water, and pans.

"Not a lot in the kitchen," Alex said, "but I did find these…some soup…tea bags…sugar…and instant hot chocolate…"

Alex poured water into one of the pans and settled it carefully in the grate.

"There," she said. "Let's see if that works."

"It…it should," Bobby said. "I'm sorry…I'm…not much help…"

Alex knelt carefully by the couch. "You saved us…you got us here…I was ready to give up…You've done plenty…" She took his hand. "You're still awfully cold…"

"I know…it's taking me a while to warm up…" Bobby shivered. "I…I may have reached Deakins…I don't know…my cell phone was cutting in and out."

"We'll be ok…like you said…we stay together…" Alex's voice was warm and confident.

"I…I….nearly got us killed…" Bobby stared at the fire.

Alex gently touched his cheek. "What choices did you have, Bobby? If we stayed at the hotel…" She swallowed. "I could have been raped and murdered…you could have been killed…we had to get out of the town…we couldn't stay with the car…we would have frozen to death…and if we'd taken the road…we probably wouldn't have lasted long enough to get here…you've made the right decisions at every point."

Bobby struggled to control his voice. "Thank you," he whispered.

"Now," Alex said. "Let's see if we can do something about your cuts and bruises. I'm going to have to cut these pants to check on your knees."

"They're…probably a lost cause," Bobby said.

Using the scissors from the first aid kit, Alex carefully cut up the front of Bobby's pants.

"Good thing we get a clothing allowance, Goren," she said.

"It…may…cover a few of my ties," Bobby answered.

"Oh," Alex said, "that's why they look like that…" She pulled the material apart to reveal Bobby's battered knees. "Oh, Bobby…"

Both knees were gashed and bruised; half-dried blood covered Bobby's lower legs.

"Damn tiny car," Bobby said.

Alex poured water into a bowl. "I'm going to try to clean these…this is probably going to hurt…"

Bobby gave her a weak smile. "I KNOW it's going to hurt."

Alex cleaned and bandaged Bobby's wounds as gently and carefully as she could, but he still winced at several points. She then moved to his head and face, washing the gash on his head as tenderly as she could. Bobby struggled not to show pain, but tears formed in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," Alex said, as she finished wiping blood off his face. "I don't want to hurt you…"

"I…know…it feels…better now." Bobby leaned against the back of the couch.

"Here…let me check your chest…." Alex helped Bobby slip his sweater off and rolled up his T-shirt. She winced at the site of his chest, which was a mass of bruises.

"Oh, Bobby…this…." Alex tried not to let her worry drip into her voice. "This looks bad…"

"It…I've probably got a couple of broken ribs…not much we can do about it…just keep me from moving much…until we get help…" Bobby slid his T-shirt down.

Alex opened Bobby's bag and found his long-sleeved sleeping shirt; she helped him get it on.

"Could you," Bobby asked shyly, "help me to the bathroom?"

It was a long, slow trip to and from the bathroom, and both Bobby and Alex were exhausted by it. After a moment, Bobby glanced at the pot in the fire.

"Water's boiling," he said softly.

Alex checked it. "Dinner will be ready in a moment." After a few minutes she handed Bobby a mug of soup. "There's hot chocolate for dessert," she declared.

Bobby sipped the soup gratefully; the warmth filled him and moved through his body.

"I feel," he said softly, "almost human again."

Alex studied him over her mug. "I…I'm worried, Bobby…I think your head is still bleeding…and you lost a lot of blood…and your ribs…and it seems that you got weaker while I got stronger…"

Bobby gripped his mug; the warmth seemed to give him strength. "I think," He said, "it was the cold that got you…once you got warm you were ok…I…just kept going…probably not a great thing…but it got us here…"

Alex looked at him. "Are you going to be ok?"

"Yea…none of these things individually is that bad…it's just the combination…"

They finished the soup, and Alex handed Bobby a mug of hot chocolate.

"Got your wish, Eames…" Bobby raised his cup.

Alex snorted. "Coulda done without the prelude." She stared into her cup. "Bobby," she asked hesitatingly, "how much trouble are we in?"

Bobby considered, and looked out the window. "The snow," he said, "is our friend and enemy. As long as the blizzard keeps up, no one is going to come looking for us…and that means Lee Moskan won't come…"

"And if he does?" Alex tried to keep the fear out of her voice.

"If it's just him," Bobby said quietly, "we can take him…but if he brings Eddie…and Eddie is on his side…I don't know…"

"Do you think Eddie…he seems to have mixed feelings…"

Bobby nodded. "I don't know…" He saw the dark look in Alex's eyes. "But there's a good chance they won't get here first…it may be the state police…"

"You think they'll be looking for us?" Alex asked. She knew the answer, but hearing Bobby's calm, strong voice soothed her.

"Of course…Deakins will have them combing the woods, even if the hotel alarm doesn't bring them." Bobby smiled at her. "And we've got plenty of wood for the fire…blankets…water…food…hell, there's probably some liquor around here if we look hard enough."

Alex returned the smile. "What about you…are you going to be ok?"

"Keep me warm…don't let me move around too much…Look, I feel much better…just the soup and chocolate has helped a lot…" Bobby paused for a moment. "But you…keep the gun with you, ok? You're the best shot by a long way…"

It was dark now; the wind still howled and the snow blew furiously. They made another attempt to use Bobby's cell phone, but the signal remained stubbornly dead. Alex placed more logs on the fire, and it blazed up comfortingly. She helped Bobby move to a chair, and then began arranging pillows and blankets on the large couch.

"Listen," Bobby said shyly. "I…I'd like to get rid of the remains of these pants…if it doesn't…bother you that I…uh…"

Alex grinned at him. "Robert Goren…I grew up in a house of guys…I've been married…you think I've never seen a guy in his underwear? And you just saved my life…I'm going to complain about you getting more comfortable?"

In spite of her comments, Alex had to admit that she was glad Bobby was a boxers rather than a briefs man. "Less revealing," she thought as she helped him back to the couch.

"Where…you sleeping?" Bobby asked as she covered him with blankets.

"Chair," Alex replied.

"The couch is big enough…we'd both be warmer…." Bobby said carefully. He lowered his eyes. "And…I…think…I'd sleep better…I'm not…I…"

"It's ok," she said softly and gently touched his cheek. "I would too." She moved onto the couch and carefully wrapped blankets around them both. She lowered Bobby's head to her lap.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"It's ok." Alex's hand hovered over his hair.

She was nearly asleep when he spoke again.

"Alex…"

"Yea."

"You…I didn't save you today…" His voice was soft and deep. "You saved me…I would never have gone on…I couldn't…without you…"

Alex felt her heart shatter. "How about," she said, surprised at how steady her voice sounded, "We agree that we saved each other?"

"O…Ok…"

Exhausted, they fell asleep.

End Chapter 6


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

He couldn't move. It was too cold; there was too much snow. He struggled through the drifts that reached his knees. The snow seemed a living thing, clutching at him, tearing at him with icy claws. Ahead of him, black against the white snow, the burned figure of Larry Moskan dragged Alex. Her body was limp, and left a scarlet tail on the white snow. Moskan turned a grotesque, blackened face towards him.

"She's mine!" Moskan screamed. "You led me right to her! Mine!" They disappeared into the swirling snow.

"No!" Bobby screamed. The snow flooded over him; he couldn't see, couldn't hear, couldn't breath. There was nothing but the terrible cold, the terrible white.

"Bobby…Bobby…wake up…it's a dream…a bad dream…wake up…please…"

Bobby blinked and stared up into Alex's eyes. He sobbed and reached for her, and sobbed again when his body protested at the sudden movement. She wrapped her arms around him.

"Bobby…it's ok…I'm right here…it was a dream…a bad dream…"

Shaking, Bobby clung to her. Alex was warm and real and alive. Larry Moskan did not have her; she wasn't freezing to death; he wasn't drowning in snow. Bobby tightened his hold on Alex.

"Bobby," she said gently. "Please…you're holding me a little too tight…"

"I…I'm sorry," he gasped. He loosened his grip. Alex helped him sit up, but still held him.

"Ok…better?" she asked.

"Y…y…yes." Bobby shivered, and Alex pulled the blanket around him.

Bobby looked around him; bright light streamed through the windows.

"Morning," he said softly. "And it's stopped snowing..."

"Yea," Alex said in an equally soft voice. "And that could be..."

Bobby nodded. "Very good...or very bad..."

"Well," Alex said after a moment. "Let's try to be ready...I'll go see what I can rustle up for breakfast..."

"Could...you," Bobby said shyly, "help me to the bathroom?"

Alex guided Bobby to and from the bathroom, tossed more logs on the fire, and set up a pan with water.

"I'm going to check the kitchen," she said.

"Don't forget the gun," Bobby said. His voice was raspy, and Alex didn't like the sound of his breathing.

Taking the gun, she laid the back of her other hand against his forehead. "You don't feel warm," she said.

Bobby tried to give her a reassuring smile. "I'm...ok...just need to be careful."

"Ok...you stay put...I'll be back soon..." Alex gave him a gentle smile and headed in the direction of the kitchen.

Alex moved to the back of the kitchen. The sun streamed through the windows and reflected off the glistening snow with a blinding glare. The trees left deep blue shadows in the deep drifts; the scenery was beautiful, but Alex knew the near zero temperature was deadly. She shivered at the thought of how close Bobby and she had come to freezing to death. "Especially me," she thought and again cursed her small stature. Bobby, she knew, had saved them both, and had saved them in spite of his terrible pain. His injuries, the terrible sound of his breathing, his weakness, all worried her. She could only hope that she could now  
help him.

Alex heard a faint crunching sound; she frowned and headed back to the main lobby. She gripped Bobby's gun tightly, and moved as quickly as her own bruised ribs allowed. A crash sounded from the lobby area, followed by muffled angry voices. Fear rose in Alex's throat as she glanced out of one of the long windows on the hotel's wide, circular porch. What she saw deepened her fear. A county patrol car was crumbled against a skewered light pole in the parking lot. A young man in a deputy's uniform lurched across the icy lot. At the bottom of the stairs leading to the hotel's main entrance Sheriff Lee Moskan loomed over Bobby Goren's body. Alex flung her body through one of the side doors.

"Don't panic," she thought. "You can't help him if you panic."

She moved as quickly and cautiously as she could around the porch. It was horribly cold, colder than Alex and Bobby's struggle through the blizzard. Alex  
struggled to keep her grip on Bobby's gun; every breath brought bright, sharp pain to her lungs. She slid behind one of the porch's large posts and tried to think. Bobby, clad only in his shirt and boxers, was terribly exposed to the cold; blood streamed down his face. Moskan stood over him and wildly waved his gun.

"Where is she?" he screamed. "Where's the bitch that helped kill my boy?"

"I...I don't know..." Bobby gasped out between his chattering teeth. Alex realized he was subtly trying to move Moskan away from the hotel. "She...she didn't...it was...accident..."

"Dad!" Eddie Moskan stumbled towards the two other men. "No..."

"Shut up!" Moskan yelled. He sent a vicious kick into Bobby's side, and Alex nearly rushed from her hiding place as she saw a wave of pain cross Bobby's face.

"Stupid bitch...stupid big city cop...you ruined it...where is she?"

"Dad...no...We both know what Larry was...it finally caught up to him..." Eddie Moskan's face was bloody, and he wavered slightly.

The elder Moskan turned towards his surviving son. "He," he waved his gun towards Bobby, "killed your brother..."

Bobby painfully dragged his body out of the range of Moskan's feet.

"We...didn't kill him...it was an accident...there was a gas leak...I tried to warn him...but he fired his gun..." Bobby struggled to his knees. "I tried to reach him..."

"Liar!" Moskan screamed and leveled his gun at Bobby.

Alex's heart stopped, and she jumped from behind the post.

"Drop the weapon!" she yelled.

"You drop it, bitch!" Moskan shouted. "Or your boyfriend dies!"

"No!" Eddie Moskan said desperately. He drew his own weapon; from her position Alex couldn't tell if he pointed it at his father or Bobby.

"He was your brother!" the older Moskan yelled.

Bobby struggled to stand; he was shaking and Alex thought his skin had turned blue.

"Eddie knows," Bobby said softly between gasping breaths. "He knows what Larry was...but he also knows what a real cop is...what Larry...and you...kept him  
from being."

Eddie stared at Bobby with wide, sad eyes.

"Please," Alex said. "Put your weapons down." She doubted she had the strength to pull the trigger, let alone actually hit either Moskan.

"Shut up!" Lee Moskan screamed again. "Eddie, we have to protect your brother's reputation..."

"Dad...what reputation? We know what he was...you never stopped him...and they're cops...real cops...not...not the...whatever we are..." Tears brimmed in Eddie's eyes.

Bobby looked from one Moskan to the other.

"Sheriff," he said as calmly as if he stood explaining some point to Carver and Deakins inside One Police Plaza, "it's over...our superiors know...the state police know..."

"Dad," Eddie Moskan pleaded, and Alex realized his gun was pointed at his father, "Larry's taken us both down with him..."

Lee Moskan's hand shook. "My boy...my boy..." he murmured.

"You have another son...a good son..." Bobby said softly.

Moskan's face twisted in rage and hate. "No," he said coldly. "My son is dead..." He pointed his gun at Bobby.

"No!" Both Alex and Eddie Moskan screamed at the same time. The explosion of two gunshots thundered through the cold air.

"Bobby! No! No!" Alex screamed. She stumbled down the porch steps, slipping and sliding on the snow and ice to reach Bobby. Eddie and Lee Moskan, scarlet pools forming beneath them, lay motionless on the snow. Alex barely registered their bodies as she rushed to Bobby's side. He shivered as she dropped to her knees beside him.

"He's alive...thank God," she thought.

"Bobby...please." Alex turned his head as gently as she could.

Bobby stared at her, his dark eyes filled with pain and fear. He tried to raise his hand to her cheek, but gasped with pain.

"Al...Alex...you're all right..." His voice was barely above a whisper.

"Yes...I'm fine...Bobby, we've got to get inside...it's so cold..." Alex was enormously relieved that she couldn't find any sign of a gunshot wound.

"The...the Moskans..." Bobby's lips were a terrifying shade of blue.

Alex struggled to help Bobby to a sitting position; she shot a look at the Moskans' bodies. "I think...they're both dead..."

"Check...please...check..." Bobby's eyes were full of despair.

Fighting the cold, Alex stumbled to the Moskans' bodies; both were dead. Lee Moskan's face held a look of hatred and rage, but Eddie's was a study in regret  
and sadness. Alex felt a wave of sympathy for the young man who seemed to be yet another victim of his father and brother.

She slid back to Bobby. "They're both dead, Bobby," Alex said softly. "Now...please...we've got to get inside..."

"Eddie?" Bobby's voice shook with the cold and pain.

Alex nodded. "Please, Bobby...we've got to get inside..."

Bobby shook his head. "I...I can't...too much...too cold...get inside, Alex..."

Alex took his arms. "You didn't leave me...I'm not leaving you..."

"I...shoulda known better..." Bobby tried to smile, but failed.

As horrible as the long journey through the blizzard had been, Alex and Bobby's effort to travel the few hundred feet to get back inside the hotel was nearly  
as terrible. Both were freezing, with Bobby especially suffering. The elder Moskan's attack not only had reopened old wounds, but added several. By the time they reached the hotel door, Bobby was near the end of his strength.

"Wrong," he muttered over and over. "I was wrong...about the Moskans...didn't realize...the father...so obsessed with the older son...Eddie...poor kid...shoulda...helped him..."

Alex managed to get the hotel door open and Bobby inside the hotel. They collapsed on the rug just inside the door for a few moments; just being out of  
the biting cold provided enormous relief.

Alex recovered first. "C'mon," she said as she forced Bobby to his feet. "We've got to get you to the fire."

It took nearly all of Alex's dwindling strength to help get Bobby near the fire. She eased him on the couch as carefully as she could, but gravity and her own pain caused them both to fall on it. Bobby cried out in pain and shook violently. Alex rested for a few seconds on him; he felt like ice.

"Alex," he murmured through chattering teeth. "You've got to get up...I'll make you colder..."

Alex rose carefully. "Bobby," she said urgently, "you have to help me to help you...tell me what to do..."

Bobby blinked and focused on Alex. He took a deep breath and winced with pain.

"I...I'm developing hypothermia...you need to get me warm...cover me with blankets...give me warm...not hot...liquids...no caffeine..." Bobby shivered; he  
couldn't stop shaking.

Alex was already piling blankets on and tucking them around him. She turned to the pot of now boiling water near the fire.

"Hot chocolate ok?" she asked, trying to keep her voice from betraying both her fear for Bobby and her own pain.

Bobby nodded. "Yea...and...and take care of yourself...you...have to stay ok..."

Alex dropped more wood on the fire and prepared two mugs of chocolate. She took a drink of her own before helping Bobby sip his. He looked slightly better; his lips were no longer the terrible blue color, and some color had entered his cheeks. But he still shivered and breathed with effort.

"It's helping," he whispered.

Alex reached a cold reddened hand to his cheek. "You should have called to me for help..."

"Lee Moskan...broke in...so quickly...he was so...angry...had to keep him away from you..." Bobby tilted his head into Alex's hand. Her touch was so warm...so soft...

"What...what should we do now?" Alex asked.

"Cell phone," Bobby answered in a faint voice. "Maybe we've got a signal..."

Alex picked up Bobby's phone. "No such luck," she said with exhaustion. "So much for modern technology."

Alex stared out the window; the Moskans' bodies lay mutely in the snow.

"The car," she said. "Maybe the radio still works...or one of the Moskans may have a cell...or radio..."

"Too cold...you can't go back out there," Bobby said.

Alex studied Bobby; he looked marginally better, but he clearly needed real medical help soon. She stared out at the bright, cold light; the prospect of  
venturing out into that weather was not a pleasant one. And if she actually had to search the Moskans' bodies...Alex shuddered. She had plenty of experience  
in dealing with dead bodies, but her violent encounters with the Moskans left her with a reluctance to deal with their remains.

Alex stood up with an air of decision and put on her coat.

"Alex...no...it's too cold..." Bobby pleaded.

"We need to reach someone," Alex said as she wrapped her scarf around her neck.

"There'll be someone...here...soon...they're looking for us..." Bobby replied.

"We can't be sure of that...and you need help...as soon as possible..." Alex jammed on her hat and slipped on her gloves.

"Alex...please...don't leave me..." Bobby's voice was faint and scared.

She touched his cheek with a gloved hand. "It'll be all right...I'll be right back..."

"But...any time...we're apart..." Bobby swallowed. "We...we get hurt..."

Alex saw pain, fear and confusion in Bobby's eyes. "I WILL be back...we WILL be all right." She brushed her lips against his forehead.

For a moment the world stopped. In spite of their pain, fear and exhaustion, Alex and Bobby were filled with want, need, contentment, and peace. Both had  
experienced something close to this strange combination of feelings--Alex more than Bobby—but never so intensely and closely. Alex pulled back slowly and gently; Bobby's eyes were full of pain and confusion, and she thought they mirrored her feelings. She rose and moved towards the door.

"I'll be right back," she said. Bobby's eyes followed her out the door.

It was horribly cold, and Alex's battered ribs weezed with pain. Trying to ignore the Moskans' bodies, she slipped and stumbled to the wrecked patrol car. One door sprawled open, and Alex slid carefully behind the steering wheel. Her heart sank as she surveyed the smashed dashboard and radio. Alex checked the car for cell phones or radios, but found nothing. She took a deep breath and moved out of the car. She approached Lee Moskan's body with disgust; a quick search  
revealed nothing of value. Eddie Moskan's body proved equally useless. Frozen, depressed, aching, Alex struggled back into the hotel.

"Al...Alex?" Bobby called to her, his voice ragged with pain.

"R...right here." Alex shed her hat, scarf, and gloves as she moved towards Bobby and the fire. She shuddered as she held her hands to the fire.

"The...water's still hot," Bobby tilted his head towards the pot.

"As soon as I get a little warmer," Alex said.

Bobby started to slip from the blankets. "Let...me...try to mix you..."

"No, Bobby...stay under the covers...stay warm."

"I...I want to help you...I..." Bobby's eyes were filled with physical and emotional pain.

"You have helped." Alex shed her coat and began filling a mug. "You got us here...you saved me..." She sat at the end of the large couch and drank the  
blessedly hot drink. It flowed down her throat and through her body.

"Bobby," she said after a moment. "The bodies...should we leave them there?"

"I...I don't think we have any choice...neither of us is...is in any shape to deal with them."

"You really think help will be here soon?" She looked at him over the top of her mug.

"It...it should..." Bobby shifted painfully on his pillows.

Alex moved closer to him. "What is it? Are you all right?"

Bobby shut his eyes; he opened them to find Alex examining him.

"Alex...you need to know..." Bobby breathed carefully. "I...I may have a concussion...my ankle may be broken...I probably have some broken ribs..."

"What should I do?" Alex tried to mask her frustration and fear.

"What you're doing...keep me warm...calm...keep checking the cell..." Bobby struggled, not entirely successfully, to hide his pain.

Alex reached for his hand; Bobby gripped it tightly. "What if...you get worse..."

"I'll be ok." Bobby tried to reassure her. "We just have to hold on...What about you? Are you warmer?"

"Yes." Alex sat her empty mug on the floor. "Much better." She smiled at him, and Bobby felt his heart split and open.

Alex pulled blankets around her. "So," she said softly, "we wait."

The fire crackled and snapped; the sound lulled Alex to sleep. She slumped against Bobby; he moved slightly and let his hand rest on her hair. Even after the  
accident, the terribly journey through the snow, and the tragic encounter with the Moskans, Alex was still beautiful.

"I..." Bobby couldn't bring himself to consider the word love regarding his feelings about Alex. "No...she's my partner...it's not allowed...she wouldn't...couldn't...want me...I've nearly gotten her killed...why would she...anyone, but especially her...want me..."

He winced with pain, but the fire and Alex's warmth sent him into an exhausted sleep.

"Alex...Alex...please...wake up..." Bobby gently shook Alex.

"What...what is it?" Alex blinked and winced as she stiffly rose.

"I hear something."

End Chapter 7


	8. Chapter 8

As always, thanks for the reviews. It may be a good thing that I'm posting this in April and not closer to the holidays, especially if you tend to depression during that time.

Chapter 8

Alex moved to the door and stared at the sky. "It's a helicopter," she said.

A small herd of state police cars followed the helicopter, and a strongly built trooper radiating competency soon led a squadron of officers and medical technicians into the hotel. They bundled Alex and Bobby into an ambulance. With the immediate danger gone, Bobby's defenses collapsed, and he fell into delirium.

"My partner...Detective Eames..." he mumured. "Please...take care of her...brave...she fought...saved us...please..."

"Detective Goren," one of the technicians said, "please...she's all right...she's right here with you."

"Bobby," Alex called to him from the adjourning stretcher, "I'm right here."

Bobby turned his head towards Alex; his eyes were dark and lost. "Alex...I'm sorry...so sorry..."

The ambulance had to fight its way through drifts and over ruts until it reached the main highway. Throughout the trip Bobby's eyes remained locked on Alex. He fought against his pain and struggled to stay conscious. He managed to stay awake until they arrived at the small regional hospital; then, as the staff wheeled Bobby and Alex to separate rooms, he surrendered.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It was warm, wonderfully warm. Soft, clean cotton surrounded her. Alex tried to snuggle deeper into the sheets and blankets and received a jolt of pain for her efforts.

"Bobby," she thought and opened her eyes.

"Easy, Alex..."

Alex blinked and looked up at Captain James Deakins.

"Bobby..." Alex tried to move slowly.

"He's all right..." Deakins placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "A little worse than you...but he's going to be ok."

Alex moved carefully. "Where are we?"

"You're in a hospital near Lake Winitt...one used to dealing with exposure cases fortunately..." Deakins' voice was calm, but Alex could hear the underlying tension. "You've got a mild case of exposure and a little frostbite and some badly bruised ribs...Bobby has several broken ribs...a mild concussion...a sprained ankle...bad cuts on both knees...and a touch of pneumonia." Deakins saw fear rise in Alex's eyes. "But it's not bad...mostly a case of needing a lot of rest and recovery."

Alex blinked. "The Moskans..."

Deakins stared in the distance for a moment. "Lee and Larry Moskan were not just bad cops...they were very bad men...you and Bobby not only cleared up the Axelrod case...but the disappearances of a half dozen young women...the state police found their bodies...and Lydia Axelrod's...on some property owned by the Moskans...and the forensic evidence showed that Lee shot Eddie and Eddie managed to shoot his father before he died..."

"Eddie...was he involved?" Alex bit her lip. "Bobby...Bobby thought he was innocent..."

"The evidence says he wasn't involved in what his father and brother did...but he might have had some idea..." Deakins gently placed a hand on Alex's arm. "Alex, I have some of the details of what you and Bobby went through...it must have been horrible...please know that you and Bobby aren't in trouble...in fact, the state police captain wants me to make sure you receive commendations..."

"It...Bobby found the papers...and put things together...and after the crash...in the blizzard...and he tried to talk to Lee and Eddie..." Alex struggled to keep her voice calm.

"You need to get some rest," Deakins said. "But...the state police said you told them that Bobby carried you part of the way to the hotel?"

Alex played with the covers on her bed. "The cold got to me...I was ready to give up...he...he wouldn't let me...he carried me...I don't know how far..." Alex bit her lip. "He saved me..."

Deakins gently squeezed her arm. "Goren told everyone that you saved him."

Alex raised her eyes.

"I suspect," Deakins said quietly. "You saved each other."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

He felt as if he had been asleep for hours, but was still exhausted. There was pain--his head hurt; his sides hurt; his knees hurt; his ankle hurt--but the pain was distant and seemed to belong to another person. He was warm--blessedly, wonderfully warm. "Alex," Bobby thought, and he blinked and struggled to open his eyes.

"Easy, Bobby..."

Bobby looked into Alex's eyes; just behind her he found Captain Deakins. Bobby tried to speak, but his throat was sore and he could only manage to rasp "u-u-gh."

"Here...this might help." Alex bent a straw to his lips; Bobby gratefully sipped the cool water.

"She's alive," he thought. "And she's all right."

Bobby tried to shift on his pillows and received a jolt of pain for his efforts. His vision blurred.

"I told you to take it easy," Alex said gently. "Do you need the nurse?"

Bobby shook his head; exhaustion replaced the pain. "I'm sorry...so sorry," he whispered. His voice seemed to belong to another person; he realized he had an oxygen tube.

"It's ok, Bobby...the doctors said you'd be exhausted for a while...sleep is the best thing you can do for yourself right now." Deakins spoke calmly. Bobby thought that at times his captain sounded like the father he wished he'd had.

"I've caused so much trouble," Bobby said as he leaned into his pillows.

Alex grinned at him. "You don't know the half of it, Bobby. The helicopter the state police used to find us costs more than we'll see in a lifetime."

"And the manpower involved...I'll be owing favors for the next twenty years..." Deakins added.

It dawned on Bobby that he wasn't in trouble.

"I...I'm not sure I'm going to be able to play Santa this year," he said.

Deakins grinned at him. "Don't worry...I'll draft someone else...maybe Logan."

"Too skinny," Bobby answered.

"And cynical," Alex added.

Deakins studied his two best detectives carefully. "Well," he said, "I have good news. The doctors agree that Alex can leave today."

Bobby's heart jumped; Alex could go home. She was all right.

Alex frowned. "What about Bobby?"

Bobby suddenly realized he would be left alone away from New York, away from Alex. He fought to keep the disappointment from reaching his face.

Deakins smiled. "Oh, he's coming...he's being transferred to a city hospital. You didn't think we'd abandon him in the wilderness?"

Within the week, Alex was suffering through desk duty and Bobby was restless in a hospital near One Police Plaza. She enjoyed the congratulations of the Major Case Squad and the pampering of her family. Mike Logan loudly complained about his extra duties, especially his role as Santa Claus, when he was near Alex's desk, but he and Carolyn Barek were the first to get her coffee and to take her out to lunch.

"You guys did great work," Barek told her over one of the lunches.

"Yea," Logan nodded. "As good a piece of police work as I've seen."

Alex's cheeks reddened slightly. "You guys helped a lot...gave us the final part of the puzzle..."

"A lot of people had those pieces, and didn't get them together," Barek replied reasonably. "You guys found evidence, and put it together...and put yourselves on the line for the case."

Bobby settled in at the hospital nearest the office. To Alex's amusement the nurses hovered over him--to her concern, Bobby became unusually quiet. Visitors flowed through his room: Alex visited every day; Logan, frequently complaining about carrying the load while Goren lounged in bed, showed up nearly every other day. Barek appeared, usually bearing some esoteric book or magazine. The night of the NYPD holiday party Logan and Barek joined Alex in sneaking into Bobby's room to share the latest departmental gossip. "What a guy will do to avoid wearing a tux," Logan said as he surveyed Bobby in the hospital bed. Their shared enjoyment of breaking hospital regulations and Bobby's obvious appreciation of Alex and Barek's apparel made the evening and morning a bright spot. Deakins frequently stopped by on his way home; Carver made occasional visits remarkable for their civility. And, to Alex's amusement and embarrassment, her father and siblings arrived to offer their thanks to Bobby for saving her. It was shortly after a visit from her father that Alex found Bobby in as dark a mood as she could remember in their partnership.

"I heard my dad was here today," Alex said cheerfully. She dropped several papers and magazines on Bobby's bed.

"Uh…yea…" Bobby couldn't quite meet her eyes.

"So, did my father bore you with tales of my wanton youth?" Alex plopped down in the chair closest to the bed.

Bobby fumbled with the magazines and papers. "He's…he's a great guy, Eames…it's just…he's got this idea I saved you or something…and it's not true…"

Alex opened her mouth to protest, but one of Bobby's doctors entered the room. She nodded to Alex.

"Good news, Mr. Goren," she said. "We're going to get you out of here on the 23rd…you'll be home for Christmas Eve."

Alex observed that this news didn't seem to cheer Bobby.

"Can…I get back to work?" he asked.

The doctor shook her head. "Sorry…your ribs are still healing…and you're still weak from the pneumonia…no work until after the New Year…and only then after a checkup…"

Bobby slumped on his pillows. The doctor checked his vital signs and left; silence fell in the room.

"Hey, good news!" Alex broke the silence. "You'll be home soon…and you finally get a holiday off. Too bad it took broken bones to do it."

"Uh, yea." Bobby looked at the paper in his hand, but Alex sensed his attention was not on it.

She took a deep breath. "If you'd like," she said softly, "I could drive you up to see your mother."

Silence again fell, and Alex feared Bobby might not speak to her.

"Thank you," he finally said, "but…like I told you…I don't visit her around holidays…but it's kind of you to offer…"

"You…could come with me to visit my family. They'd love to have you…" Alex saw Bobby jerk as if he'd been hit. "Are you ok? What is it?" She stood to check on him.

He held up a hand to stop her. "Just a twinge…a reminder from my ribs…" Alex sensed that Bobby was avoiding looking directly at her.

"You're sure?" she asked gently. "Should I get someone?"

He nodded. "I'm fine." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I…I'm sorry Eames." Alex noted that he had returned to using her last name. "I'm not good company tonight…I had a physical therapy session today…and I'm beat…it's not you…it's me…"

"It's ok," Alex said gently. "You've got the right to be tired…I'll let you get some rest…"

"Eames…I'm sorry…I…your visits…they mean a lot to me…it's just…" Bobby stared at his blankets. He wanted to cry to Alex to stay with him; he wanted to beg her forgiveness and plead for her to wrap her arms around him and hold him.

"It's all right…really." Alex wanted to let Bobby know that she cared for him; she wanted to comfort and hold him and make everything better. But she had no idea how to reach beyond her and his defenses. "I'll see you tomorrow…and bring you some real coffee."

"Ok…thank you."

Alex was in a cab speeding away from the hospital when she realized Bobby had deflected her invitation.

"What the hell are you doing here, Goren?"

Bobby started and looked up at Mike Logan. He had hoped that Christmas Day would find a skeleton staff of few uniforms wandering aimlessly around the Major Case Squad; he hadn't anticipated having to explain his presence to another detective, especially Logan.

"Uh…just going over some files….Just what are you doing here?" Bobby tried to deflect the question to Logan.

"Nice try, Goren…" Logan sat on the edge of Alex's desk. "I'm here to clean up a few files as a favor to Barek…but you've clearly been here since early this morning…"

"I…I was going stir crazy in my apartment," Bobby answered. "And I was afraid of what I might find when I finally got back." He tried to return his attention to the reports on his desk.

"Look…the other day it took all of your energy to get into your apartment. You should be resting." Logan's tone was quiet; he clearly didn't want to create a major confrontation, and as long as Goren wouldn't ask why he was in the office on Christmas morning, he wouldn't ask the same question of Goren.

"I know," Bobby said wryly. "I was there…look…just let me finish dealing with these files…I'll be out of here by noon…"

Logan stood. "Ok…but if you're not gone by then, I'm calling Eames…and I may not be able to kick your butt, but I know she can…"

Bobby smiled at his partner's name. "Yea, she's tough…you're lucky you got her figured out, Logan…the NYPD is littered with the bodies of guys who didn't realize that."

Logan grinned at him. "I may be a hot head, but I'm not clueless…seriously, you take care of yourself, ok?"

Bobby nodded. "I will…promise…I'll be out of here by noon…And thanks for the help the other day…I appreciate it…"

Logan waved off the thanks. "Hey, you owe me…I'll collect some time." He moved to his desk. Since Barek's arrival he was no longer banished to the wobbly desk behind the beam, but they were in Deakins' line of sight and fire. Bobby remembered that for the first year of their partnership Alex and he had occupied that same space. The day after cracking a particularly difficult and sensitive case Bobby arrived at Major Case to discover Alex sitting at a desk in the middle of the office. "I think," she told him with a grin, "we're no longer on probation." It was the same day he won the right for the Santa mug to sit on his desk for the first time; it was also, Bobby realized, a few days after Alex didn't send the letter. That damn letter, that he hadn't known about and she'd forgotten, that sat and festered in some file until it could be used to poison both of them.

Bobby shifted and winced as his ribs complained. He checked to make sure that Logan, or anyone else, hadn't caught his moment of weakness. The truth was that even before Logan's interruption he was considering heading back to his apartment and his bed. Bobby had received his share and then some of injuries in his life; life with a mentally ill mother and an erratic father combined with the careers of a soldier and police officer ensured that. But the combination of broken bones, cuts and bruises, illness and sheer exhaustion now hobbling him was proving hard to shake. "I'm not a kid anymore," Bobby thought, but other factors were hindering his recovery, including the fact that while his body ached for sleep, his mind dreaded the resulting dreams. Dreams of Alex holding him, caressing him, kissing him, or of Alex lost in the snow or freezing just beyond each his reach; Bobby wasn't sure which variety offered him greater torment. Being alone in his apartment was a different sort of agony. Bobby had managed to avoid having a holiday off for such a long time that he had almost forgotten the leaden loneliness of those days. After she and Barek and Logan had helped Bobby return from the hospital, Alex stayed in his apartment to fix a supper that he was too exhausted to eat. Over his protests, she tucked him in bed; as he drifted to sleep, Bobby hoped she would go home. She didn't, of course. When he rose in the early morning to go to the bathroom, Bobby discovered Alex sleeping on his couch. Filled with longing and want, he looked down at her and, of its own will, his left hand reached out to softly touch her hair. Alex had stirred slightly, and Bobby jerked his hand away. Aching physically and emotionally, he had stumbled to his shower and tried to wash away his pain. When he emerged from the bathroom, Bobby moved to the kitchen and discovered that his refrigerator and cabinets were full.

"Alex," he thought gratefully and began fixing coffee. The smell of brewing coffee soon brought a slightly rumpled Alex Eames into the kitchen, and she and Bobby spent several contented moments drinking the life giving beverage. Alex had tried, gently and persistently, to get Bobby to join in her family's Christmas celebrations, but he had, with equal gentleness and persistence, refused, citing both his exhaustion and need to catch up things around his apartment. She had finally left for work, but only after eliciting solemn promises from Bobby that he wouldn't do too much and he would allow her to visit him on Christmas Day. That evening, as Bobby expected, she had called him; Bobby could hear the clamor of the Eames' celebration in the background. Alex again tried to encourage Bobby to join her; again, he courteously refused. He used his injuries as an excuse, promised her he would eat something, and settled in for the evening. There was nothing for him to do. He'd finished the small amount of paperwork waiting for him, and, thanks no doubt to Alex, his apartment was cleaner than it had been in some time. Even his laundry was done. There was nothing to distract him from the fact it was Christmas Eve and he was alone. The television offered him no respite—even the Weather Channel was playing Christmas music. Sighing, Bobby flicked the TV off and moved to his books.

Bobby Goren had few holiday traditions beyond working extra shifts and buying presents for his mother and for Alex. He hung no decorations, attended no services. But he did make a point of reading Charles Dickens' A CHRISTMAS CAROL to reinforce his connection with the rest of humanity. He pulled the slim volume from his shelves and started to read the familiar words, but this night they offered him no comfort. Discouraged, he shut the book and stared around him. Memories of past Christmases, of fights and disappointments, flooded over him; Bobby realized with a shudder that his best Christmas might have been the one spent in the institution where he briefly stayed after one of his mother's worst psychotic break. It offered, at least, a holiday dinner, and one of the counselors had given him several paperback editions of classic novels. Bobby had carried those books with him until they fell apart. "Alone," he thought. "I'm alone." Bobby fought against the self pity and desperation rising in his mind. "My work matters," he thought, "I do make the world a little better. I do it well. I like it…that's two of the things that make a good life…having work that matters and enjoying it…very few people have that…but I'll never have the other thing…to be loved by someone that I love…" The tears brimmed and fell from his eyes, and he couldn't fight the sobs any longer. Bobby clung to a pillow and cried himself to sleep on his couch.

He woke, after a blessedly dreamless sleep, on Christmas morning. He roused his protesting body and tried to eat some breakfast, but the food choked in his throat. He paced as much as his ankle would allow around his apartment, but the empty room mocked him. Finally, he surrendered, wrapped himself in his coat, grabbed the hated cane his ankle insisted upon, and moved outside. His cell phone rang as he reached his building's lobby; it was Alex, of course, checking on him and offering another invitation. Even absorbed in his own thoughts, Bobby recognized the strain in Alex's voice, but she insisted she was ok, that it was only the result of several hours with the Eames horde. She reminded him she would be coming to see him that evening; he tried to thank her for all she had done.

"Hey, it's what you do for a friend and partner…and I haven't really gotten you a present this year," she said.

"I…I'm afraid I don't have anything for you," Bobby answered.

"It's ok," Alex replied. "After all, you've already given me my life…that's a pretty great present."

Bobby thought, "Only after I nearly got you killed."

"Bobby? You there?"

"Uh…yeah…just a little lost in my thoughts."

"You take care of yourself…I'll see you around five, ok?"

"Ok," Bobby said softly.

"Merry Christmas, Bobby."

"Merry Christmas, Al…Eames." He couldn't bring himself to call her by her first name, and it broke her heart.

He hadn't intended to go to the office, only to get out of his apartment, but after struggling with the cane and his ankle for a block, Bobby realized a walk of even a short distance was out of the question. A cab appeared on the street; Bobby hailed it and gave the Major Case Squad address almost without thinking. Once inside the building, Bobby felt enormous relief, as if this was his real homecoming. Within these walls he was free from doubts and fears, or at least he was until his ribs ached and his body rebelled.

Bobby looked up from the file on his desk and caught Logan's eye; the other detective pointed to his watch. Bobby realized it was nearly noon; he nodded to Logan and began collecting the files. He was about to stand to take the files back when Logan appeared.

"I'll take those," he said, nodding towards the files. "Save some stress on your ankle…"

It was an indication of his exhaustion that Bobby didn't protest. By the time Logan returned Bobby had managed to get his coat on.

"You need a hand?" Logan asked.

"No…thanks, Logan…I appreciate it," Bobby said as he picked up his cane.

"Ok…but you take care of yourself…Barek and I are tired of handling everything around here." Logan returned to his desk, but Bobby could feel his eyes watching as he made his way to the elevator.

It was somewhat more difficult for Bobby to find a cab than in the morning. He was cold and his ankle sending painful protests to his brain by the time he found an empty one. He limped into his building and apartment and collapsed on the couch. Bobby sat for a few moments. He had several hours until Alex would arrive and no idea what to do with them. He smiled at the thought of Alex and hoped that just seeing her for a few moments might save the day. Bobby finally lifted his weary body from the couch, shed his clothes, and took a hot shower to pound the pain out of his body. He emerged from the steam filled bathroom and slipped on his pajamas. "I'll just grab some sleep…feel better…before Alex…" Bobby thought, and he fell asleep smiling as he dreamed of his partner.

"Hey," Alex's soft voice sounded in his ear. Smiling, Bobby turned towards it.

"Alex…Alex," he whispered, and opened his eyes to see Alex, framed by her golden hair, looking down at him.

"I have a present for you…."

END Chapter 8


	9. Chapter 9

Thanks for the many kind reviews. This chapter is rated M, so approach accordingly. And this is the conclusion.

Chapter 9

"You know, it's not always you," Carolyn Barek said quietly.

Startled, Alex looked across at her lunch companion. "What?" she asked in some confusion and realized that Barek had just read her thoughts.

"It could be him…your partner…that's causing the trouble," Barek continued.

"Good grief, Carolyn…you do that as well as Goren…and it took me about a year to get used to his mind reading act…" Alex gave a wry smile. "Am I that transparent?"

Barek attacked a tomato with her fork. "No…but I've watched you and Goren for the past week or so…something's a bit off with the two of you…you've just visited him…and you've been very quiet. You're trying to figure out what's wrong…and you think it's your fault…"

"You think like Bobby," Alex said, and added on seeing the look on Barek's face, "and I mean that as a compliment."

Barek grinned. "I'll take it as such…but, seriously, Alex…whatever the problem is…it might be Goren…don't blame yourself…"

Barek's advice echoed in Alex's head as she cleaned Bobby's apartment later that day. Since their return from the ill-fated journey to Lake Winnitt, he had been reserved and withdrawn. Alex had thought that they had reached a new closeness in their relationship—"whatever that is," she thought—after their Thanksgiving encounter. But, while he remained unfailingly polite and heartbreakingly grateful for her attention, during his hospital stay Bobby drew deeper into his own cave. Alex searched her actions and words for something that might have caused Bobby to pull away from her, and she could find nothing. Deepening her confusion was Bobby's reaction to her. While he frequently appeared awkward and confused in her presence, he also seemed to want and be comforted by her.

As Alex, aided by Barek and Logan, retrieved Bobby from the hospital, she began considering Bobby's behavior not as the result something she said or did, but something he said, did, or thought. "It's not me he's trying to get away from," she thought, "it's him…he thinks he failed me…he thinks he's hurting me…or will hurt me…" That night, as she lay on Bobby's couch, Alex realized Carolyn Barek was right; it wasn't Alex Eames, it was Bobby Goren who was lost and troubled. Bobby's rumbling through his apartment woke her the next morning, and she carefully peered out from beneath her covers to watch him. She was stunned when he paused by the couch and nearly touched her. "He's in love with me," she thought. Alex spent Christmas Eve and Christmas wrestling with the idea that Bobby Goren loved her. She attempted to get Bobby to come to her family's celebrations, but wasn't surprised when he gently but firmly rebuffed her efforts. She was surprised when, just before sitting down to dinner with her family, she received a phone call from Mike Logan.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, Eames, and maybe this is none of my business…but if it was my partner, I'd want to know…"

Alex moved with her cell phone to one of the few rooms in her parents' house that wasn't roaring with activity. "What's Goren done now?"

Logan chuckled. "Well…he's in the office…"

"What?" Alex exploded.

"Take it easy," Logan answered. "I'm just the messenger…he's here…said he couldn't stand his apartment any more…I'll make sure he's out of here by noon…"

"How is he?" Alex's anger had turned to sympathy and concern.

"He's…not bad…but he's obviously tired and hurting…and trying very hard not to show it…and if he finds out I've ratted him out, he'll kill me…"

"Don't worry, Logan…your secret is safe with me." Alex hesitated. "Logan?"

"Yea…"

"I owe you…thanks."

"You and Goren both. And don't think I won't cash in someday."

"You got it."

Alex spent the remainder of her visit with her family considering her relationship with Bobby. As much as she loved her family, when she was with them she had roles to play. She was the daughter, the older sister, the younger sister, the aunt, the surrogate mother. These roles were part of what she was, but they were not Alex. She was Alex when she was with Bobby. She wasn't just his partner or his friend, she was Alex. He accepted her as she was; he loved her as she was.

She said goodbye to her family early in the afternoon; everyone quietly accepted her need to visit Bobby as perfectly legitimate. Every member of her family had taken as gospel her father's claims that Bobby Goren had saved Alex from death or worse, and even the most skeptical members now regarded her partner with awe. Laden with food (including the infamous Eames peanut butter and chocolate fudge), Alex was in her car when her nephew ran up to her. It was THE nephew, the one she'd carried for nine months, and he clutched a small teddy bear.

"For Bubby, for helping Aunt Alex," he insisted, and Alex, with a catch in her heart, saw it had a tiny gold shield on its blue chest.

Alex's decision was made long before she reached the city. She would deal with the potential dangers to her career; she would deal with Bobby's emotional scars. She knew that she loved him; she only hoped she loved him enough. She parked near his building, and carefully maneuvered her packages into the building and elevator. She knocked quietly at his door, but wasn't surprised when there wasn't an answer. She found the key and quietly entered. She deposited the food in the refrigerator and on the counters. There was evidence of Bobby's presence in the apartment; his coat draped over a chair, his badge on his desk. Alex moved carefully into his bedroom. Bobby lay on his back beneath the covers, his breath coming in soft, regular beats. His hair was tousled, and his long eyelashes fluttered occasionally. He looked young and vulnerable, and Alex stood for a few moments only watching him. Her heart broke and reformed with every one of his breaths. Some deep part of him became aware of her presence, and his eyes blinked. Alex leaned over him.

"Hey," she said softly.

"Alex, Alex," Bobby murmured and Alex dived into the dark pools of his eyes.

"I have a present for you."

Bobby blinked and smiled. "It's ok," he thought. "I'm dreaming…and it's a good one…it's safe…"

"Actually," Alex said shyly and hesitantly, "you don't have to take this present…unless you want it…"

Bobby was confused. The Alex of his dreams was never shy or hesitant. And his ribs and ankle didn't hurt in them.

Alex shed her jacket. "If you don't want this, Bobby…if I've read things wrong…" She was proud that her voice wavered only slightly. "Let me know, and this never happened." She reached for the bottom of her sweater.

Bobby's brain jolted into action. "You idiot," it screamed. "This is real…it's not a dream!"

He shot up from his pillows so violently that his ribs protested in pain and his head spun. Alex immediately dropped on the bed beside him. "Bobby," she said urgently, her hands hovering over him, "Are you ok? What's wrong?"

Bobby covered his face with his hands. Every conceivable emotion raced through his mind. His heart pounded, and blood rushed through his body.

"Bobby." Alex's voice was soft, warm, and gentle, just as Bobby loved it. "Please…for once…don't think of anything else…just…what do you want…right here…right now…what do you want?" She took his large hands in her small ones and pulled them from his face.

"No…we can't…your career…your life…you deserve better…you don't know what I am…"

"Bobby…for once…be selfish…" She smiled at him, that quiet, calm, reasonable smile that saved and steadied him. "What do you feel? What do you need?"

His heart splintered and surrendered. "You," he whispered. "I…I want you…I love you…" Shaking, he fell into her arms.

The storms in his mind ended. All he was or had ever been, everything he had thought or done, had led him to this moment. His shaking eased and ceased. "This," he marveled, "is where I belong…I have a place…I have someone…" He rested in Alex's arms.

"In that case," her voice breathed in his ear, "I'm your present."

He pulled back to study her, but didn't leave the cocoon of her arms. "I…I…have nothing…for you."

She held him gently but firmly; now that she finally had him, she wasn't going to let him go. "Yes…yes you do…you have the one thing I want…need…love…you have you…"

He looked at her with desperation, fear, joy and love. "You don't know what I am…I don't deserve you…"

"Robert Goren," Alex said with a touch of exasperation, "you're a brilliant, funny, charming, good man…and you let me be me…"

He stared at her. "I…I don't understand…"

Alex raised her hands to hold his face. "I don't have to play any roles with you…I don't have to be someone…I can just be me…don't you know what a gift that is to someone?" She smiled at him. "Why do you think I run to you after I've been with my family? It's so I can remember who I am. You let me be me…and you make me better."

He raised his hands to cover hers. "I…I do? I do that for you?"

Smiling, Alex nodded.

"It's just…" Bobby swallowed. "I…I know what you give to me, Alex…it's so much…I just couldn't imagine…that I gave something…let alone anything so important…to you…"

"So, what did you think?" She laughed. "That I'm some kind of masochist who stays with you because I enjoy those sessions in Deakins' office?" Her mood grew more serious. "Or…or that I enjoy watching you beat yourself up over things?"

Bobby held Alex's hands and stared at them. He tried to understand why this beautiful, intelligent, funny woman was with him.

"You…you don't know…what…I'm really like…" he whispered.

"Bobby," Alex said patiently. "I've been with you for five years…I've seen you at your best and worst…we've saved each other…I know…" She took a deep breath. "I know about your mother…something about your fears…I know…"

Bobby looked directly into her eyes. "And you stayed," he said as much to himself as to Alex. "You stayed." He leaned forward, kissed her tenderly on the forehead, and wrapped his arms around her. Alex rested in his arms; she had never felt so complete, so real, so alive.

"I feel guilty," she said suddenly after a few moments.

Bobby started. "I thought I was in charge of unreasonable guilt," he said, his voice rumbling in her ear.

"It's just," Alex smiled. "I'm not sure it's fair to give a present when you expect to get so much out of it yourself." She touched Bobby's collar. "Pajamas…I've never thought of you as the flannel pjs sort."

"Comfort," he answered. "I needed the comfort today."

Alex began unbuttoning his shirt; Bobby caught her hands and kissed her fingers.

"Alex, I can't promise you…it's been a…long time since I…and I'm still hurting some…" he whispered.

"So, Robert Goren finally admits he's not invulnerable," Alex grinned. "It's ok…what happens happens."

"It's just," Bobby kissed her on her eyes. "This means so much to me…I want to make you happy…to please you."

"I told you…this is about you," Alex said. "What you want…"

"And what I want is to make you happy," Bobby replied.

Alex laughed. "For a smart guy, you sure think in circles."

He grinned at her. "Ok, then…do I get to unwrap my present?" He lowered his eyes.

"And he's shy!" Alex laughed. "This is a remarkable day." She released the last button on his shirt. "You get to unwrap yours…if I get to unwrap mine." She pushed the shirt off Bobby and winced at the fading bruises. Her fingers softly brushed across his chest. "Does it still hurt?"

Her touch took Bobby's breath away; he recovered. "A little…every once in a while," he said. "But not now."

He reached for the end of her sweater and pulled it over Alex's head. As he dropped it on the floor he traced the edge of her bra with a finger, and then leaned forward to kiss her deeply. Alex responded hungrily, reaching her arms around his neck. Bobby moaned as the kiss deepened; he reached for the clasp on Alex's bra and fumbled with it. She reluctantly broke the kiss and smiled at him.

"Having some trouble, there?"

He smiled back at her. "A little…there…" He released the clasp and pulled away her bra; it joined her sweater and his pajama shirt on the floor. "Oh, God, Alex…you're so beautiful…"

She fell into his arms and reveled at the feeling of his skin and soft hair against her naked breasts. Bobby buried his face in her hair and let the combination of the scents of her shampoo and soap and body flow through and intoxicate him. For a few moments he thought he could hold her against him forever, but his body began responding in a familiar and primal way. He moved a hand to her jeans.

"Are you ready to…may I?" he whispered in her hair.

She pulled away from him to fall back against his pillows, and Bobby's heart jumped into his throat. "Yes," she said. "You need to unwrap the rest of the present."

He unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans and in one quick, fluid motion, pulled her jeans, panties and socks from her. Alex lay naked and open and vulnerable before him. She shivered both from the cool air and anticipation.

"You," she said, trying to gain some control over her feelings, "were probably one of those kids that ripped open their packages…"

"I've never had a more beautiful, wonderful present," Bobby answered. He hovered over her, his knees on either side of her, his weight supported by his arms. He stared at her, trying to memorize every inch of her body.

"My turn," Alex whispered. She slipped his pajama bottoms and boxers off and tossed them to the pile on the floor. Bobby moaned softly.

"Wow," Alex said suddenly and stupidly. "The rumors are true." Bobby stared at her for a moment, and Alex wished she could swallow the words she'd just blurted out. Then, joyously laughing, he wrapped around her and rolled so that she rested on top of him. She grinned and joined in his laughter.

"Well, Ms. Eames, I'm glad I meet your speculations…and I hope your approval." Bobby grinned at her.

"Oh, definitely…and then some." Alex returned the grin. She was thrilled to be lying naked in Bobby's arms and at the genuine happiness radiating from him.

As if in response to her thoughts, Bobby spoke. "Alex, I'm so…so happy…I've never been this happy…"

She kissed him. They touched and caressed, kissed and nipped, tasted and savored their bodies. No man had ever touched Alex the way Bobby did. As he kissed and tasted and touched her it was not that he wanted to possess as much as he wanted to know her; that he wanted to take away any of her pain and fears and leave her with the best parts of him

He returned to something resembling reality. His thoughts began forming into something resembling logical forms. "Idiot, you're smothering her…get off." He stared to move, but Alex held onto him. Holding to her, he turned them so they were side by side. "I love you," he whispered hoarsely.

"I love you," she responded. "Merry Christmas, Bobby."

Her words echoed in his mind as he fell asleep.

Bobby woke up a few hours later. Finding Alex sleeping peacefully in his arms, he was convinced at first that he was dreaming. "Please," he prayed, "never let me wake up." His ankle gave a slight twinge, and Bobby joyously realized he was awake. He stared at Alex and tried not to disturb, but the rumbling of his stomach woke her. She blinked and smiled at him; Bobby's heart jumped and fluttered.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey yourself." Bobby was stunned that he could speak.

"Was that your stomach rumbling in my ear?" She raised her body on an elbow.

"Uh…yea…I….I'm hungry." Bobby realized he actually wanted food for the first time in weeks. "I'm really hungry…"

"I can take care of that," Alex laughed. "Come on…let's see if we can both fit in your shower."

Roughly an hour later, they were curled together on Bobby's couch. Alex wore her jeans and Bobby's flannel pajama shirt; Bobby a pair of sweats and his oldest, most comfortable shirt. Christmas music played softly; Alex had turned on the radio as they prepared and ate dinner, and Bobby now found the seasonal music comforting. They sipped Irish coffee and rested in each other's arms.

"What time is it, Bobby?" Alex asked.

Bobby glanced at the clock. "It's about quarter to 12."

"Oh, good…it's still Christmas…I just remembered…I have one more present for you…" Alex reached into a bag by the couch. "It's from my nephew…" She pulled out the small blue bear and handed to Bobby.

He held it tenderly, his fingers moving over it. Tears brimmed in his eyes, and Alex's vision also blurred.

"Alex," he said, his voice shaking. "This is the most wonderful Christmas anyone could ever have…and it's…the best…greatest…for me…"

She reached for him and they held each other for several moments.

"Think you might consider celebrating more holidays?" she murmured into his shoulder.

"If they're anything like this," he answered.

"Merry Christmas, Bobby."

"Merry Christmas, Alex."

END


End file.
